Fifth Year? I Haven't Done My Homework!
by Laterose
Summary: AU fifth year fic with everything! Abuse to animagi (sort of) snakes, Sirius (and his sister), Remus, Voldie, crazy new powers and a decision that will change Harry and Ron's lives forever COMPLETE!
1. Srab no swodniw

** 'Lo all! Glad you decided to drop by. I promise it's worth reading. Really. 

Laterose. **

Vernon Dursley heaved his body out of the sofa. "All right!" he yelled at the telephone, which was ringing furiously. Unfortunately, the phone did not obey his order. 

Hot and bothered, Vernon swaggered down the hall and picked up the phone. Suppressing the urge to simply say: "What is it?"  he said, hardly any more politely, "Vernon Dursley speaking."

"Yes," said a young woman's voice down the line. "Hello. I am… Abby."

Vernon snorted. He hated people with silly names. 

"I need to talk to your nephew, Mr. Dursley."

Mr. Dursley froze to the spot. His hand moved to put the phone straight back down on the handle, but this young woman was speaking quite normally. Maybe it didn't have anything to do with the boy's abnormality after all. He couldn't see, however, what else it could be.

"Why?" he asked, keeping his voice its normal low growl. It was threatening to squeak. 

"Er… he's in trouble."

That sounded promising. "How much trouble?"

"Rather a lot, I'm afraid."

"I'm his guardian. You should be telling me before you talk to him."

Pause. "You really want to know, sir?"

"Yes."

"Right." Another pause. "He was… on a… broomstick…"

"Stop!" exclaimed the man, the word bruising his ears. "You're one of them, aren't you?"

"In a manner of speaking," said the young woman slowly. "Do you mean… am I a wi-"

"Stop!" yelled Vernon again. Boy, was he lucky Petunia and Dudley were out. "I'll get him!"

Covering the speaking end of the phone with one hand and turning so he faced the stairs, he yelled, "Boy!"

A black haired head peered out of the third bedroom door along the landing. 

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" the boy was trying to sound brave, but his uncle noticed with satisfaction that he was shaking. 

"Down here, now! " When the boy hesitated, Vernon said, "phone for you."

"For me?" said the boy, emerald eyes widening in surprise. "Who is it?" He flinched visibly as his uncle yelled back up the stairs.

"Never you mind boy! Now get down here before I come up there and tan your hide for you!" 

This startled a reaction out of Vernon's nephew.  He stumbled out onto the landing and limped down the stairs. 

Vernon gave him a slap on the back of the head as he gave him the phone. Still trembling, the boy raised the receiver to his ear. 

"Hello?" asked Harry softly. Who could possibly been ringing him?

"Harry! It's me!"

"Her-"

"Shh! My name's Abby, Ok?"

Harry was very aware of his uncle leaning up against the wall of the hall, watching him and listening to every word that he said.

"Abby." He said carefully as if acknowledging the fact that this was who he was speaking to.

"Harry, is your uncle listening?"

"Yes," said Harry in an expressionless way, trying hard not to let his eyes stray to Vernon in case he guessed the purpose of their conversation.

"If you say a single word, boy," warned Mr. Dursley. Harry knew what he meant. He wasn't going to say anything. Hermione would flip.

"Harry, why haven't you been answering my owls? You haven't been in touch since the first week of the holidays. Ron's frantic, even Sirius has owled me asking, the owls just come back with the letter. Are you OK?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"So why haven't you been answering?" she sounded very put out. Harry sighed. No way was she going to find out.

Hermione misinterpreted his sigh. "Oh, right, you can't say. I'll have to ask yes or no questions. Er… did you reply to anyone's letters?"

"No," said Harry. How far was she going to take this?

"Did you get the owls?"

"Yes." That much was true at least.

"Did you… open them?"

"No."

"Oh. _Could_ you open them?"

"No."

"Why not? Oh, sorry, you can't answer. Was it the Dursleys?"

"Yes."

"So they're stopping your post?"

"Sort of."

"Something else is?"

"No."

Hermione snorted with impatience down the telephone line. 

How much could he tell her? Harry did some very quick thinking. "Er… Srab no swodniw." 

"What?" said Hermione.

"What?" said Vernon at the same time.

"Llams oot."

"Harry, I can't understand a word you're saying."

"Butcanyourememberit?" said Harry quickly. 

Hermione grabbed that. "Yes, I think so… Srab no swodniw, llams oot, right?"

"Yes."

"But Harry, that doesn't make any sense…"

"Look," said Harry loudly, "I'm sure you must have a very busy schedule… Abby."

"Right!" said Hermione. "I've told them you're in trouble because of something to do with a broomstick. Can you do the rest?"

"Yes, of course."

"Just tell me what you-" but the line went dead before she could finish.

Harry turned to face his uncle after slamming the receiver back onto the handle. 

"What on earth was all that gibberish about?" roared Vernon.

"It means… It means…" Harry tried to remember what Hermione had said. "It means, well it's a swear, it means, I'll never do it again, and..."

"A swear, eh?" growled Vernon dangerously. 

"Yeah. I'm in serious trouble."

"Good! Expelled are you?" 

"Not yet."

Vernon Dursley gave Harry another whack to the back of his head that made his vision spin. 

"Don't you talk to me in that tone, boy! Now back upstairs before your aunt and cousin get home. Now!"

Harry limped back upstairs, using the banister to steady himself. He moved as quickly as he could back to the safety of his room. Well, it wasn't really safety, but he knew he was lucky to have escaped a proper beating.

The first thing he noticed was that Pig, Ron's owl, was banging hard against the glass of his window.

Harry shook his head sadly at the owl. "Sorry Pig," he whispered. "You may be able to get through the bars, even if Errol, Flash and Madeline can't, but I can't open the window. The catch has come off."

I wonder if Uncle Vernon knew he could break it before he tried, thought Harry. That window will never open now.

Hedwig hooted softly from the desk, where she'd been sitting on Harry's diary. 

Harry fell into the seat, stroking her. "I'm really sorry Hedwig," he said. "I wish I could let you out."

Hedwig only nipped playfully at his ear. Harry fished under the (very small) pile of parchment he had managed to salvage from the year before, and brought out some owl treats, also from the previous year. 

Needless to say, they were well past they're sell buy date, which was flashing in red on the back of the packet.

"You'll get fat if I keep feeding you these," Harry half joked, and tipped a few into her cage.  They were disgusting, but they were all they had. Hedwig had. Harry had nothing. 

His stomach growled. Harry had not eaten for four days now, and even then it had been a flimsy meal of bread and cheese. 

Harry had been thinking recently about anorexics. He had come across the subject in one of those magazines Muggle schools gave out once a term, all about health and safety and so forth. 

He had found the magazines under a pile of Dino's, which used to be Dudley's. They had obviously been brought home, dumped on the floor and forgotten. Harry was surprised they had even reached the house. 

In the absence of anything else to do, Harry had started to read a few, thinking longingly of his Quidditch books, which were locked in his trunk in the cupboard under the stairs. 

It was completely beyond him how anyone could choose to go hungry to lose weight. Mind you, he thought, glancing at his skinny reflection in the mirror on the back of the open cupboard door, I haven't got much to worry about.

Harry shook himself awake. He had almost dozed off at the desk. Rubbing his forehead, which was aching, he climbed painfully out of most of his clothes and climbed into bed. 

He had long since given up pajamas. One set of clothes was bad enough.

The single, thin sheet did nothing to comfort him. Dudley had stolen his duvet over a week ago, and Harry didn't dare ask for it back. Dudley was nearly as dangerous as his father. 

As it was, Harry slept on an uncovered mattress with the mattress sheet over him.  It was good that the weather was still summery. He probably would have frozen to death had it been winter. 

He thought this thought every night. It was in his diary, somewhere. Would you rather freeze to death…?

Too tired to do anything other than breath, Harry settled back into the pillow less mattress, and fell into uneasy dreams. 

The huge barn owl was carrying him once again over sleeping towns and tiny countryside villages. The best part of the ride was that Harry was in no pain. His leg felt as if there had never been hint of a fracture, and his ribs were at their strongest.

The big house drew slowly closer. Harry did not feel afraid or excited, merely curious. He was almost certain he could here singing. 

The owl swooped over the gardens. Harry gasped when he thought he saw several black shapes moving around in the bushes, but the owl didn't stay long enough for him to get a proper look.

The barn owl flew into the house through one of the larger windows, and flew off again when Harry dismounted.  The room Harry found himself standing in was bright and cheerful, painted yellow and white with little lilac bunny rabbits giving eggs to passers buy.

A woman who didn't seem to see the boy standing by the window, was singing a sweet lullaby to the baby in her arms, while a boy who couldn't have been more than six, sat and listened too.

Hush there

Little one

Don't cry out

I am here

Please be still

Hushabye

Little Baby 

Do not cry

Soon Papa

Will sing to you

Hushabye

Little one

Hushabye…

Harry frowned, despite the peace of the song and the beautiful atmosphere of love and warmth that spread around mother and children.

This was not like the other dreams. The others always started with Death Eaters…    

OH NO.

Please God, no…

The sound of manic laughter echoed up the stairs. The little boy went to scream, but the mother put a hand over his mouth and pushed him into the cupboard, the baby still entangled in her arms.

Then, without warning, the door burst open. About ten, no, twenty Death Eaters piled into the room. The tallest was the only one not wearing a mask. It was Lord Voldemort.

The mother, although prepared for an attack, had evidently not expected this. With a scream she threw herself to the ground, protecting the bawling baby with her body.

Almost carelessly, Voldemort raised his wand. "Avada Kadavra!" he said softy – dangerously. Pain flashed across Harry's scar, he gave a yell that no one could hear. And the deed was done.

The Dark Lord motioned to a Death Eater, who kicked over the still body to expose the baby who liked rabbits. The flash of green light and the lightning bolt of pain came once more. The baby was silenced. 

The boy in the cupboard was screaming now at the sounds of his mother and her baby being murdered. Harry turned his tearstained face away as Voldemort raised a hand at the boy, who was being held in position by two large Death Eaters.

There was nothing he could do to help. Harry had already tried; the first few times he had had these dreams. All that happened was that he walked straight through people, sometimes seconds before they died. 

The only good thing about these dreams was that they couldn't give him nightmares, because there was a new one every night.

He screamed as the worst pain of all flashed across his scar. The boy had been trying to escape. Both had suffered for his pains. 

The killings had patterns, Harry had realised. The less helpless the victim, the greater the pain. Lots of them had fought, but none of them had yet survived…

The cold merciless laughter cut through the air once again as the lifeless body of the little boy fell to the ground beside his mother. The Death Eaters piled back out again, still laughing, and as the door slammed shut, Harry woke with a start.

Ron stared for the hundredth time at the letter Hermione had sent him with their only clues as to what was happening to Harry.

1) Harry is getting the owls but he can't open them

2) It's because of his aunt and uncle in some way

3) Srab no swodniw

Srab no what? Ron had been on the verge of sending an owl back to Hermione to ask what on earth she thought she was doing, when he noticed a P.S. 

I have no idea whatsoever what that last bit means. His Uncle was watching him, so I guess he was speaking to me in code. Do you get it? 

Well, Ron certainly didn't. He propped the pillow against the headboard and sat up to ponder the puzzle.

"Boy! UP! Now!"

Harry was already up. He hadn't had any sleep last night apart from the part with the dream, and he couldn't call that restful. His only set of clothes was back on him, and he had been sitting still, trying not to be sick for the last two hours. 

He was now very good at sitting and thinking. Usually he thought about the dreams, whether they were true or what they could mean. But the thought of the tiny baby lying still in its mother's arms as the screaming boy was dragged from his hiding place was enough to make Harry retch.

Still managing to keep a hold on his feelings, he hobbled towards the door of his room. When the dream ended, the pain had returned. 

"Hurry up!" called his Aunt Petunia again. 

Harry made his way to the top of the stairs, nursing his ribs. He was just putting his foot on the very first step, when something hit him hard in the small of his back, and he went head over heels down the wooden, but thankfully carpeted, stairs. 

He landed with a thump on his side at the bottom. Uncle Vernon came bursting out of the kitchen. "What's going on here!" he roared. 

"Harry was too long on the stairs," said Dudley, charging down them, as if stairs were sacred places that only allowed one person on them at a time, such as toilets. 

Vernon growled and picked Harry up by the collar of his too large T-Shirt, choking him. "And what have you got to say for yourself, eh?"

Harry could only splutter as he wriggled, trying to breath.

"Answer me boy!" 

But the constriction on his throat forbade him. Uncle Vernon was holding him above his head, stopping Harry from letting his legs take the weight. 

"Right!"

The next thing Harry felt was severe pain around his stomach. He doubled up as the bread and cheese of four nights ago threatened to say its goodbyes.

"Not in the hall, please dear," called Petunia from the kitchen. "And where's that boy got to?"

Dudley raced into the kitchen. Vernon gave Harry a shove into the kitchen, and he fell to his knees on the cold tiled floor. 

As he gasped for breath, a list was thrust in front of his nose. "Do them," said Petunia. "Or no food today."

What's new? Thought Harry as he took the list. 

"Go then!" taunted Dudley, accepting a huge plate of bacon from his mother. The Dursleys had long since given up letting Harry cook the food in case he poisoned anything. Harry had to admit that this was unusually smart of them.

He backed out of the kitchen. Once in the hall again, he glanced at the list. It was a long one. Harry knew he'd never be able to do all of those jobs in just a day.

Well, he might as well get started. The first thing on the list was 'weed the garden'. It sounded like a stupid thing to start with. It would be easier to mow the lawn first, for example. 

Harry had learned, however, that it was best to do everything the way they wanted him to. A slip up now might mean something worse than a fracture. 

So, hot, tired, and with a bruised neck, Harry got a bucket and trowel from the garden shed, and set to work. 

Two hours later, he was covered in mud and dirt, his knees and the ends of his shorts were soaked and freezing from the morning dew, and his hands were burning where they had been repeatedly stung by nettles.

In just twenty minutes, Harry was painting the garden shed again, for the third time that fortnight. The Dursleys must be running out of ideas for things for him to do. 

The dark brown Harry was now using was exactly the same colour the shed had been in the first place. With all his weight on his right foot, because of the fracture in his left one, he started the up and down motion.

While he worked, he tried not to think of everything that was happening in the present. He thought about how good it was going to be to get away and back to school with his friends. He would never complain about homework again.

The right leg got pins and needles after a while. Harry rested for a while against the wall, watching the paint dry. He smiled slightly at that little piece of irony.

"You!"

Harry sprang upright, gasping in pain as he spun around on his injured leg.

His Aunt Petunia had been watching him from the kitchen window with sharp eyes while doing the washing up. Now she marched towards him across the grass, face red and angry. 

"Don't you ever let me catch you slacking, you nasty little boy!" she screamed just softly enough so that it wouldn't alert the neighbors. 

Harry noticed with a flash of fear that his aunt still had a soapy frying pan in her hand, but she merely waved it to indicate that he get back to the job.

Sighing, Harry returned to his painting (up, down, up, down) and Aunt Petunia went back into the house.

"Harry, dear?" 

Despite Aunt Petunia's efforts, one of the neighbors had been alerted anyway. The small head of elderly Mrs. Figg was peering over the low fence. She must have been standing on something.

"Hello, Mrs. Figg," said Harry, as cheerfully as he could. It came out flat and monotonous.

"That looks like fun," the old woman ventured.

"Yeah," said Harry. He managed a weak smile at her before returning to those, soothing, and constant strokes. Up, down…

"Did you offer to do that for your uncle?" she asked.

"Er, all right," said Harry, trying to be polite while not looking up. He had found that people could tell when he was lying just by looking at him. Especially his family.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

"What?" said Harry, looking up at last. "Yes, of course I'm all right."

"All right then dear, just checking."

Harry's blood ran cold. Had she guessed? Could she see…?

"It's just that, you hardly look as if you're enjoying yourself, and you've got a nasty black eye there…"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "I've just got a lot on my mind, Mrs. Figg. I'm fine, really."

"Ah. I don't suppose you'd like to come over and talk about it?"

Harry knew what would happen then. She'd guess the truth if she got close enough, and then he'd have to deal with the child authorities. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

"That's very kind of you Mrs. Figg, but I ought to finish this. Some other time, I promise." And he gave her a more real smile.

Mrs. Figg shook her head as she climbed down from the apple basket. What a smile! She thought. That boy could be handsome if he'd start eating properly. She spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about 'teens of today'. 

"Hermione!"

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley."

"We're so glad you could come."

"I'm very glad you could have me, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione spotted Ron in the doorway of the kitchen. 

After four days of worrying over Harry's mysterious message, the two friends had decided it would be better if Hermione came over for a couple of days so that they could put their heads together properly.

"Hi, Hermione," said Ron. His red hair was tousled; he can't have had much sleep.  

"Hey, Ron," said Hermione.

Ron led the way up the stairs in silence. Fred and George were waiting for them in Ron's bedroom. Hermione glanced at them suspiciously.

"Ron filled us in," said Fred.

"We're helping," said George, firmly.

"Good. We're going to need all the help we can get. Straight to it?"

All three boys nodded. 

It seemed pointless. Strawberry season would be over in a few months anyway. Harry knew perfectly well, as he slaved among the soil, that Dudley only wanted the strawberries to smear on things to freak people out. 

No one would forget that fateful incident last week, when Susan from next door had fainted at the sight of a little sparrow covered in strawberry juice with a message written beside it saying, 'One down, couple of million more to go…'  

Harry was nearly half way down the list, and it was nearing six o'clock. In that time he had gained scratches from a saw, splinters from new wood, and a huge bruise on his right cheek from a well-aimed saucepan. 

He glanced at the box. Just three more plants and then… well, he couldn't remember what came next. 

"Harry!"

Harry looked up sharply, and saw the last man and dog he wanted to see when he was kneeling in mud with a new bruise to match his black eye. 

"Professor Lupin? Sirius?" The dog was growling. 

Very loudly. 

"Shut up," whispered Harry. "They'll hear you!"  

Sirius barked. "I think that was the canine impression of 'let them come'," said Remus Lupin. "Harry, what's been-"

"This way," said Harry quickly. Wincing, he got to his feet, and moved round the back of the house towards the shed. Aunt Petunia had left the window.

"Watch the paint," Harry whispered as he pushed open the door to let them inside. "I've just – mmph!"

As soon as Sirius was inside, he made an incredibly quick transformation and pulled Harry into an enveloping hug.

Harry sobbed in pain as Sirius pressed his broken ribs. His Godfather drew back very quickly.

"Harry, I'm sorry, what the hell happened?"

"Nothing happened."

"Harry, look at yourself! You can't tell me now those monsters haven't hurt you."

"I had an accident, OK? I walked into a door…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever," said Sirius. "I've heard it all before. Look at me Harry."

Harry looked up at him, unwillingly. Sirius' grip on his arms was painful. Remus just stood back, watching. 

"No lies. What happened?"

"I've told you…"

"Harry," said Professor Lupin suddenly. "You've got a limp and two bruises on your face. And you walked into a door?"

"I hurt my leg when I fell down the stairs."

"Remarkably clumsy this summer, aren't you?" growled Sirius. 

Harry wasn't even sure why he was lying. He stayed quiet. 

"I'm not leaving you here."

"Sirius, you can't…"

"Oh, yeah? Why not?"

"I promised Dumbledore. I said I'd stay here…"

"Dumbledore never thought anything like this would happen, did he?" said Sirius. 

"You don't get it! Dumbledore put me here so I wouldn't put anyone else in danger! I can't go anywhere else until I go back to Hogwarts."

"Harry," started Remus. "That's not true…"

"BOY!"

Harry froze. "I have to go."

Sirius made a move as if to go out of the door, find and kill whoever had called, but Remus held out a hand to stop him. "He's right, Sirius. We should have gone to Dumbledore first."

Harry knew he was making a mistake. He just couldn't stand anyone fussing over him now, when he had ruined the summer for practically everyone.

Sirius sighed heavily, resigned. "Harry," he said. "If anything happens. Anything. I want you to leave at once, right? Go anywhere you know is safe. Take the Knight Bus if it helps. Just DON'T stay here."

Harry nodded to show he understood, and the two men disapparated. That had been close.

The fifteen year old walked out of the garden shed, where he'd been offered a chance of freedom, back into his living hell.      

**Ha ha! There lies the first chapter, ladies, gentlemen, and strange beings from mars that have hooked up to our phone lines! (Yes, we know you're out there…)

The Harry Smashing does get worse, for those of you who like that sort of thing. I'm hoping to make this a proper whole fic, with the whole of Harry's fifth year, but only if people review. I am a review addict **backs away from bright lights** I confess, I confess!

Hope you enjoyed it. If you didn't, maybe you wouldn't have read this far down. If you did, there's a little button at the bottom left you might want to click… 

Laterose. **


	2. Now that I'm Famous in two worlds

**Hello again! This chapter is hereby dedicated to Sky Chief and Katharine, who gave me such stunning reviews. See more thanks below! 

WARNING: this is a weird one. Well, by my standards, it isn't really, but you have to read it carefully to catch all the hidden jokes.

Disclaimer: forgot about this last time. Well, if Harry Potter were mine I would not be here. Satisfied? **

"We must be missing something really simple!" exclaimed Hermione. "Harry just thought this up on the spur of the moment! It can't be that complicated."

"Well, you were on the felatome, right?" said Ron. Hermione didn't even bother to correct him. "Maybe you spelt something wrong?"

"It's _misspelled_, Ron, and I can't know if I did. I just wrote down what I thought he said."

"Oh, I dunno," said George in exasperation, throwing down the parchment on which was now written a hundred different versions of Harry's message. 

_Srab no swodniw… llams oot. _

"It just sounds really mixed up to me."

Hermione froze. "Say that again."

"What, about it sounding all mixed up to me?"

"Yes!" Hermione. "It's so simple! They are real words, they're just anagrams!"

"Y'what?" said Ron.

"Honestly Ron," said Hermione, not for the first time. "It means the letters in the words have been mixed up! But Harry couldn't have, I mean, no offence to Harry or anything, but he's not that clever…"

"Meaning you are, I suppose," said Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"I know!" said Fred with glee. "They aren't real anagrams either. The words are just backwards. Look at this first one… 'srab' – 'bars'."

"And 'no' is 'on'," said Hermione automatically. "I can't believe we didn't get that one…"

"So 'swodniw', means 'windows'," said Ron slowly, "and llams oot…"

"TOO SMALL!" said everyone together. 

For a few moments they all sat together in silence. 

"Oh," said George after a while.

"Great," said Fred.

"Really big help, Harry," said Ron.

"Well, at least now we know why he wasn't replying to our letters," said Hermione.

"Yeah, but how much does that help us?"

"Well what were you hoping for, Ron?" I did only ask him the one question!"    

Every day was the same. Every single day. Only they were getting worse. 

It had been three weeks since Hermione's telephone call. It seemed like an eternity. Only one more week until school started. That seemed even longer away. 

Harry had no idea how he was going to get all his school things this year. This year there was no Hagrid, no Weasleys, no Aunt Marge and no World Cup to help him get them. This year, he was all alone.

What really struck him was that he was alone by choice. Why on earth hadn't he agreed with Sirius and Remus when they arrived? Harry thought he knew why. He couldn't stand the shame. 

And it was true, what he had said, wasn't it? Dumbledore wanted Harry with the Dursleys to keep others safe. If Voldemort wasn't actively looking for Harry, there would be a lot less deaths, and a lot less suffering. Harry had to stay.

That was what he believed. And he was paying for it. 

Harry had come to dread turning a corner and seeing his Uncle waiting for him there, huge old leather belt in his sausage like fingers.

He now had marks from each and every member of his loving family. Welts and cuts lined his back. 

His face was covered in bruises from Dudley, and he had various burns on his hands where Aunt Petunia had 'accidentally' jogged the ironing board so that the scorching hot iron caught his bare skin.

**Ouch! I know how much that hurts, believe me…**

He was allowed to eat only when he got so hungry that he was actually sick. It made the food taste foul.

Every night Harry was forced to watch defenceless parents and children killed. At least the men went out with a fight, as did many of the women who had no babies in their hands that they had to protect. The children never stood a chance. 

But if Harry had thought that it couldn't get any worse, he was wrong.

His back was still searing with pain, effects of the last beating. He tried not to show it as he edged around the crowd outside the grocers, three heavy bags over each arm.

It had been a bad day from the start. He had had no breakfast, or in fact any food at all for a week, except the occasional apple from the tree of Mrs. Figg's that leant it's branches over the Dursley's fence. Harry made an attempt to grab one every time he had garden chores. They kept him alive.

Maybe one day, thought Harry. Like, whenever I actually get a chance to go to Gringotts and exchange some Galleons for pounds, I'll pay her back. 

There was no chance of him taking his pick of the groceries that he carried, Aunt Petunia had thought long and hard about that. She had the price of everything in 'Kings and Parkers', written down on a list taped to the fridge, next to Dudley's diet sheet, which was being neglected.

Harry would come back with the exact foods, and the exact change, or he'd be sorry. The change was at this minute inside one of the grocery bags. Harry no longer trusted his pockets. 

Just the other day, a biscuit that would have fed him for two days had leaked a trail of crumbs out of his jeans pocket from the kitchen to his room. 

Ouch.

Harry ducked under someone's arm and almost dropped the bags as his back sent a river of pain shooting up his spine. 

"You all right, sonny?"

Harry gasped as cold hands helped him up. He felt the bulging grocery bags get plucked from the grasp of his left hand.

"God boy, these weigh a ton!" 

Harry almost had a heart attack when he saw who had helped him. It was a policeman. A Bobby. The law.

He was dressed in traditional street walk Bobby costume, blue suit and helmet with silver buttons. He looked a little out of place in the busy street full of modern buildings.

"I'm fine," said Harry, straightening up as well as he could. He held out his hand for the bag. The Bobby didn't give them to him. He was looking at Harry's face in a strange way. Harry thought that he might be looking at his scar. 

"You got a few bruises there, young man…"

Harry's heart dropped out of his stomach. 

**Not quite literally, but you know the feeling. **

He had cast a wandless charm on his face to stop people from seeing the marks. So far, Uncle Vernon hadn't said anything, but Harry renewed the spell every morning just in case. 

This particular morning, he had forgotten. Dudley had wanted Harry to tidy his room. It usually wasn't smart to argue with Dudley. The dark bruises on his face must be beginning to show. 

"It's nothing - " said Harry quickly. "Honest. I bashed into a cupboard the other day, see."

"How old are you?"

Nosy Parker. "Fifteen."

"You're awfully small for your age." 

Harry stood up straight as if insulted. All he wanted to do was to get away, fast. 

"Do you mind?" he asked, and held out his arm again for the grocery bags. This time, he received them. 

As soon as he was fully loaded, Harry turned to continue walking, but the policeman stopped him.

"Listen," he said, very seriously. "I suspect that you're not telling the truth, which you may well be, but if there is something you're worried about, you call this number, right?"

He scribbled on a page from his Bobby's pad, ripped the page out and tucked it into Harry's shirt pocket. With his arms full, he couldn't refuse it. 

"You really don't have to worry…" Harry called after the Bobby as he walked away, but he didn't look back, just wandered into the crowd until he disappeared. 

Muttering to himself, Harry wandered back up the street towards Privet Drive. 

Hermione frowned to herself. It had been three whole weeks since she and the Weasleys had spent hours over that stupid message that hadn't helped in the slightest. 

On that same day, she had received an owl from Professor Lupin telling her what had taken place at the Dursley household. 

Harry was being clumsy. She could believe that. It was possible that he was still in shock from the events that had taken place at the end of the previous school year. 

Then why was she still worried?

It was perhaps, Harry's own fault, seeing as he wasn't looking where he was going. 

But that was only because he had been concentrating on walking.

He had to, because he would have fallen if he hadn't.

The bags were too heavy on his injured shoulders and arms.

His aunt and uncle had done that. 

He wouldn't be living with his aunt and uncle, if it hadn't been for…

Voldemort. Harry often played that game. Every single misfortune in his life seemed to come down to Voldemort. Or himself. He brought some things upon himself.

Would you rather freeze to death…?

"Hey! Wadda ya know? It's Harry Potter!"

Harry nearly walked headfirst into Malcolm Partridge. "Hey! Dudley! Look what I found! Someone's dog went in the street!"

Dudley, Piers and Dennis turned one corner. Gordon and Jarvis, the new addition to the little band, (the only qualification you needed was to go to Smeltings, be big and stupid and good at hitting people, or holding people), turned another.

Dudley smiled his stupid smile; the one that meant something small in glasses was going to be decorating the pavement in a matter of seconds.

"Dudley - " started Harry.

"You call me _Master_ Dudley," said Dudley with awful glee.

Harry gritted his teeth. "Master Dudley. These are Aunt Petunia's groceries. She'll get…"

"We all saw him do it, didn't we boys?" said Dudley to his gang, who looked nonplussed. "_We saw him_ mess up the shopping, _didn't we_?"

Then they all caught on. Even in this dangerous situation, Harry couldn't help thinking how much they reminded him of the Death Eaters.

"Oh, right. Yeah."

"Definitely."

"Of course we did."

"Dropped them and stomped on them, didn't he?"

"Oh, yeah Dennis. And then…"

Dudley grabbed the bag nearest to him and fished out the fiver. 

"He got this and walked off, didn't he?"

"Had to stop him…" grinned Piers, cottoning on.

"Danger to the com… com…"

"Nah, Jarvis. It's the comu… the comuni…"

"It doesn't matter what the hell he is! Get him!" 

Harry dropped the bags. He would never have saved them. It turned out he couldn't even save himself.

First, they wrestled him to the ground, which wasn't hard. Then came the friendly kicks on his already broken ribs. Harry endured it. He tried not to scream. He didn't know how far away that Bobby had gone. He'd be in worse trouble if he landed Dudley in prison.

"Impedimenta!" Piers froze. Harry wriggled out of his grip, looking frantically around for whatever idiot had just cast that spell.

"Stupify!" Gordon fell over. This was getting out of control. The other boys didn't seem to have noticed their stunned and temporarily paralysed companions.

"Terantalagra! Oh bother, Stupify!" the first curse had missed. The second sent Jarvis toppling on top of Dudley and then lying still on the ground. 

Dennis screamed. Dudley jumped up and whirled around, leaving only Malcolm to hold Harry by the collar. He managed, however. 

Harry found his glasses underneath his hand and put them on, ignoring his captor. One of the lenses was cracked, the other showed…

_Oh no. No way._

There stood Dudley, face sweaty, eyes wide. And there, facing him, was Hermione. And a wand.

"That's better," said Hermione, her tone icy. "Now let him go."

Dudley was usually terrified of wizards of all shapes and sizes. His summer spent with a broken Harry, however, seemed to have softened his fear. 

He motioned to Malcolm, who stood up, keeping a tight hold on Harry's right arm, which was bleeding from some old wound, which had opened. Dudley strolled over and grabbed Harry's other arm. Before Hermione could open her mouth to stun him (or worse) Dudley had whipped out his Britannia penknife and placed the blade at his cousin's throat.

"Make a move," he told Hermione. "And I kill him."

Hermione shook a little, but kept her wand level. All Harry could think was, 'what the hell is she doing here?'

"You wouldn't," said Hermione. No one missed the uncertainty in her voice. "He's your own flesh and blood."

"I've killed before, you know," said Dudley playfully. "Mice and birds. Cats sometimes. Small dogs. He's one of you. That makes him an animal. Why shouldn't I just… put him to sleep…?"

Harry yelped as the knife made a shallow cut across his neck. He didn't realize his eyes were pleading. 

Slowly, defeated, Hermione lowered her wand. Dudley nodded to his stunned friends. "Wake them up."

With a tiny sob that no one could hear, Hermione raised the wand again. 

"Enervate." All four boys sat up slowly. 

"Come on," said Dudley. His gang followed him down the street, Harry still being towed along by Malcolm, leaving Aunt Petunia's food behind and laughing back at the defeated girl, a stick of useless wood in her hand.

Hermione stood still. She couldn't believe what had happened. She'd been beaten by a pack of Muggle hooligans, and Harry was going to get hurt…

Why was she standing there? She had to get help. She had to do something. She had to reach Dumbledore, Sirius, anyone. 

But wouldn't that take too long?

She stared in sorrow at the split carrier bags; their contents sprawled over the street. She was going to get an owl any second. An official warning for using magic…

Hermione suddenly noticed a piece of paper among the squashed oranges. She picked it up and unfolded it. Thankfully only one side had been soiled by the fruit. 

She stared at what was written there. She glanced up the street. There was a telephone box just twenty paces away. Suddenly she didn't care whose that paper was or how it had got there.

If someone had happened to be standing outside the red telephone box just up the street from a pile of squashed groceries five minutes later, they would have heard a fifteen year old girl say:

"Hello…

Hermione Granger.

No, you don't get it. It's not for me, it's my friend, Harry…"

And if someone had just happened to go into that telephone box after the young woman had left it, they might have seen a scrap of paper from a Bobby's notebook with two things written on it abandoned on top of the Yellow Pages.

_____________

Childline:

0800 11 11 

_____________

** What a great place to end a chapter! **Backs away from angry mob** Ok, OK! I'll carry on! ** 

Mr. W. J. Y. A. S. Anderson lived in the tiniest cottage imaginable, on top of a hill somewhere in Huntingdon. There are of course, not many hills left in Huntingdon, green ones anyway,

**I should know, I live there, **

but Mr. Anderson lived on one, all the same. It was a mystery to many people how Mr. Anderson kept the Government off his land, but to Norman Sickle, it was just good luck to him and may the good Lord keep him safe. 

Norman Sickle thought about everyone this way. As long as the Lord kept them safe, they were good people in his eyes. And of course, the Bible says that the Lord keeps everyone safe, so Norman's eyes needed to hold an awful lot of people.

His family had soon grown tired of his constant preaching, they weren't incredibly religious people apart from his Grandpappy, but many of his friends had advised him to become a vicar.

But Norman was not quite a vicar. He was the village postman, and was known around the town as Norman.

The wheels of Norman's bike always squeaked when they rode up Anderson's hill. He whistled 'Onward Christian Soldiers' along with the noise they made. 

He was glad in a way that Mr. Anderson's house was the last on his round. It gave the poor bike a chance to warm up. It sometimes puzzled him why Mr. Anderson never received any mail other than newspapers, but it lightened the load. It was the way of Norman to find the good of every situation. 

**Does this seem really random to you or what? **

Once at the top of the hill, Norman approached the cottage and knocked loudly on the door.

He heard the sounds of breaking glass, and then a curse. Norman made a cross on his chest at the language, but the next second the door had been whisked open by Mr. Anderson himself. 

"Morning Norman," he said briskly. "Newspapers as usual?"

"Of course sir," said Norman, "a _Mail_ and a _Times_, just like always," and he handed over the papers. 

"Thank you Norman. Good day. Bit of a crisis inside, I'm afraid."

"Oh, no worries sir. May God be with you."

"Yes, yes," said Mr. Anderson vaguely, and shut the door.

Norman rode away, thinking vaguely of his shepherd's pie waiting for him at home.   

When Mr. Anderson ran back into the workshop, the rug was smoking. Impatiently he stamped it out with his foot. He grabbed a well-used dustpan and brush from the side and swept up the remains of the potion bottle. 

He cursed himself for leaving his wand upstairs for the fifth time that day. His rheumatic legs forbade him to make that climb more than twice a day. Or maybe he was just lazy. 

Mr. Anderson made a living by receiving Muggle newspapers and forwarding them. One Albus Dumbledore paid him handsomely for this. Anderson didn't know what he saw in them, the news was so boring, but it kept him occupied until his 'big chance' came, when he would sell a potion that actually worked.

"Look at yourself, Willie," he would often say. "That big chance'll come soon, you see if it doesn't. But you have to make it come soon. You don't have that much time."

With a sigh, William Anderson retrieved the papers and tied them to his owl Griddle's leg. He didn't bother to undo the wrapping. He turned away as Griddle soared off into the sunset with the newspaper, not caring about the odd looks the villagers gave William's house when they saw him.

Everything you have just read is important.

Albus Dumbledore had not eaten for a while. He didn't feel particularly hungry, which was unlike him. He sat as his desk, resisting the urge to chew his quill in case one of the staff came in. 

Surely there was a letter he'd forgotten to send or something…?

An owl swooped into the room by the open window. It carried a Daily Prophet in its claws. Dumbledore thanked the owl politely, paid it, and sent it on its way again. Glad of something to do at last, he settled down to read the paper. 

His frown increased as he read. The news had not changed. The ferocity of the Death Eater attacks had increased, but none of the papers ever even hinted that the Dark Lord himself might be leading the attacks. Not one. 

Albus closed the paper with a sigh. They would catch on soon, and then not even Fudge would be able to keep them quiet…

It appeared to be his lucky hour. Here came another owl, silent and smooth over the forest. Dumbledore recognised this owl.

"Ah, Griddle. How is good old William, eh?" 

Griddle hooted softly and extended his leg. Griddle hated Sundays. The paper was three times as heavy as usual. 

**Where do they find all the stuff to put in those? **

Albus set about undoing the paper wrapping that Muggles insisted on tying round the news, and Griddle flew off. 

Leaning back in his chair, he opened the paper to the front page, and leapt up again in shock at what he saw.

Mrs. Figg, of number 4, Civet Drive, whose apples had been steadily feeding Harry for the last few days, had not had a chance to glance at the paper that morning. 

First, she had tended all her beloved trees, including the one that leant over the Dursley's back fence. Then she had scattered crumbs all over the grass to attract the birds, which she loved watching. Then she had completed her household chores, and taken a few moments to answer a letter to her daughter. 

At last, she poured the steaming hot water from the kettle into a pot full of tealeaves, and then poured that and rather a lot of milk into her favourite, apple decorated Mug.

Picking up the Daily mail from the table, she shook it open and took a sip of her tea.

Then she screamed and dropped the mug onto the floor, where it smashed into five large pieces.

Hermione picked at her breakfast, ignoring her mother's chiding. She didn't know that her daughter had taken a little trip to Little Whinging the previous day. 

The man on the phone had told Hermione to go home and not to worry. 

Guess what? She was still worried.

She hadn't told anyone about it yet. It had been dark when she got home. Her mother thought she'd gone to visit Ron by train this time. She felt guilty, however, because she knew deep down that she was really putting it off. 

Mrs. Granger started to get up from her seat when the post flap on the front door rattled, but Hermione shook her head and walked out of the kitchen, leaving the soggy cornflakes behind.

Yawning, she picked up the paper from the doormat and glanced at it. Her scream brought her mother running into the hall.

Remus Lupin was carrying two carrier bags almost as heavy as Harry's had been. They would have been heavier, but he was slowly running out of cash again. 

Sirius had no money. He had promised to pay Remus back, and had even gone so far as to suggest he go and stay with Mundungus for a while (their old friend now knew of Sirius, but it had taken quite a long, dangerous time to persuade him) but Remus was having nothing of it. 

Once school had re-started, both of them would be staying at Hogwarts for at least a term. Dumbledore would need their help.

The newsagents was just down the road. Remus felt a bit like visiting Greg Foster, the man who owned the place and was friends with Lupin merely due to the amount of money he received from him, so he sauntered up there, shifting the bags under his arms.

He paused to look at the new sign outside the shop. There was a new one every week.

Life getting you down? World's affairs too confusing for you? Come to our weekly discussion in the town hall this Friday. This week's topic: Stress caused by Global events.

In reading this, Remus' eyes happened to slide onto the headline in the _Mirror._

Young Boy Viciously Abused

Remus picked the paper up, interested. The shopping slipped from his other hand as he saw the main picture that emblazoned the front page.

It was a picture of Harry. He wasn't wearing his glasses, but it was unmistakeably Harry, from the untidy hair, to expressionless face, to dangerously skinny bare chest covered in scars, to the tattered jeans and scuffed trainers. 

Inset was another picture of Harry, but this time it showed his back, covered in even more welts and scars than the front. His left foot was tucked behind his right leg, as if he was ashamed.

Remus' eyes widened in shock as he scanned the first paragraph. 

_This was the scene which shocked Childline health authorities yesterday, as Mr. Harry Potter, 15, was rescued first hand from a group of teenagers, who fled as soon as officials approached. _

_It is rumoured that a young woman, whose name inspectors withheld, rang the hotline number moments after witnessing these youths carry out a severe beating on Potter. _

_The scars however, which riddle the young man's body, were sometimes weeks old, and are believed to have been acquired from Potter's guardians, who he claims are not his immediate parents…_

Remus skipped the rest. He turned to page 7, where the horrific story was continued. The words only told of Harry's denial of the aforementioned statement. 

There was a picture of Harry's glasses, smashed. Another close up of a cut that could have been an inch deep. 

The last paragraph caught his eye.

_An inspector told reporters that last night he was muttering in his fevered sleep 'leave them alone, they've done nothing wrong, wait, no!'_

_If anyone knows anything about this case or can give information as to the whereabouts of Harry's guardians, please call Childline on 0800 11 11 or speak to a representative of your local policeman. _

Still in shock, Remus purchased the paper, not speaking a word to Greg, and hurried back home. 

Sirius would not like this.

**Man, that took a long time. Here be thanks.

VampireLover, Carey Miles, Lauren, Beezer, Lokapavani, RadientMoonWolf, The infamous drunk, Liaset (he, he he…), kyra uku riddle, melockerty, Lady Fox Fire, Lei Dumbledore, stardust summersun, skahducky, katie, AllAboutMe (I'm so flattered, especially coming from you), Kim, Amber and Lil Lupin (what cliffie?)

Katherine: I hope you notice this is dedicated to you. You rock. 

Ronsspawn: Harry is being uncourageous because 

i) he doesn't want anyone to know tha the can defeat Voldie but bot his guardians,

ii) he thinks he has to stay at the Dursleys to keep his pals safe. No biggie.

Sky Chief: I can't stand those either. Glad you didn't miss the humour, it does tend to be overlooked **boo hoo!** Your name is also at the top in case you hadn't noticed.

Littleginblossom: I'm sure you're not mean really…

Dy: You're back! I am a one for cliffies, aren't I?

Nableelah: Arggh! I don't want to die!

Bumblebee Bucy: I know it's the best one yet. The others seem childish by comparison, don't they? Glad you are reading.

See you next chappie and don't forget to review! Feed my addiction…

Luv ~Laterose~. **


	3. Someone called Professor Little

**Hooray!! At last it's up, the third chapter! 

Ok, so you're wondering how Harry ended up in the paper? Well, you are right, that sort of thing happens everyday which is awful of course, but now and again certain stories hit the press that shock the people, such as the case of poor Sarah Payne a few years ago. 

Harry made the front page mostly because he was fifteen, and most kids are meant to be able to take care of themselves by then, and most of the children it happens to by then are much younger. Also the fact that he could at any time have done something about it, but didn't, was considered unnatural.

Please Please Please read my new fic! It's original fiction but you'll love it if you like fantasy. It's called: Phillippe and Araya 

Disclaimer: Take a second to think about it. J K Rowling is not thirteen, nor does she have to do homework. I am also broke, so please don't sue me! **

Questions. Piling in on him from all directions. Even from inside him, where the small part of him that made him Harry was wondering. 

Where had they come from? One minute he had been staring into Dudley's leering face as he raised the heavy stick that had already broken Harry's arm, and then the shocked face of a middle-aged Muggle man.

He'd managed to stay conscious while they got him into the ambulance. Somehow, they already knew his name, but they kept asking him questions, two men and two women, while another man took notes, whispering: "keep him talking, keep him talking!"

He must have passed out eventually. The next thing he knew, he was lying on a soft bed in a hospital, complete with pillows and duvet, and more people were asking him to stand up so they could take pictures.

What for? Wondered Harry. Just in case I kick the bucket all of a sudden? 

Only then had they patched him up and put his arm in a cast. None of the doctors were a stitch on Madam Pomfrey. 

He'd gone through with the photographs, even though he hated cameras and they made him take his shirt off, simply because he was too tired and in pain to push them away.

But they weren't going to get anything else from him.

He hadn't told them what had happened. 

He wouldn't tell them where he lived. 

No one was going to find out. Unless…

Unless…

"Unless what, Harry?"

"Hmmm?"

"Harry?"

"Hmm... hmm.. hmmm?"

"Hum and ha all you like Harry, there's plenty of time."

"Do you think he's waking up?"

"What do I know? Call in one of those crazy Muggle nurses."

"Sirius!"

"Well, I don't blame them. I'd be crazy too if I worked here."

"You _are_ crazy Sirius."

Sirius… I know that name…

"Hermione, what are you going to say to him when he wakes up?"

"How do you mean?"

"You practically saved his life."

"And? He's saved ours loads of times before. Maybe it's time I returned the favour."

That voice is so familiar…

"Wha'? Wurr am I?"

"Harry!"

"S… Sirius?"

"Yeah, Harry. Hermione's here too."

Harry blinked. He was lying on his back on something soft and he could have sworn his eyes were open. There were two large, blurry shapes above him. He supposed they could be human faces…

"Here," said one of the blurry shapes with Hermione's voice. 

Harry felt the familiar metal shape of his glasses being set onto his nose. They only enhanced the vision in one of his eyes, but from what he could see, both Hermione and Sirius were looking very worried. Sirius most of all. And there was something else about him… was it fear? Or anger?

"I dreamed loads of people… and they were taking pictures…"

"You're in a Muggle hospital Harry. The pictures were for hospital records but somehow they leaked out to the press…"

Harry groaned. "And that's how you knew I was here, right?" 

Sirius chuckled grimly. Were there tears in his eyes?

"Remus found a paper. I gave him a black eye when he tried to stop me charging out after those…" he paused for lack of a word suitable enough. "He managed to convince me you were more important. Well, I knew you were anyway, I was only thinking that I ought to… I mean…" and stopped again because he was simply tying himself up in knots.

Harry shifted his head as far as it would go without hurting, and looked at Hermione.

"What happened?"

"You tell us," said Hermione. She looked a little angry now. "Harry, he was going to kill you!"

Oh damn.

"Hermione, you haven't – "

"I told them everything. But more happened after didn't it? Your arm can't have been broken before, because your cousin and that other boy were holding onto you. And before… how long has this been going on for?"

Harry closed his eyes and ignored the question. Before anyone could prompt him he asked suddenly,

"How did you know that was Dudley?" he remembered Hermione's words. 

_You wouldn't. He's your own flesh and blood. _

"From your description," said Hermione simply. The way she said it somehow made Harry think that she had only just managed to convince herself of how she had known.

There was no point in hiding what had happened with Hermione. They already knew. Great.

"He wouldn't really have killed me," said Harry, not meeting either of their eye's. "He was just really afraid of you, was all. And you needn't have cursed the others. I was fine on my own, really."

"Dragon dung. He cut your neck."

That was true. Sirius hissed as Harry raised a hand slowly to his throat and felt the mark that had hardened overnight. 

At that moment there was a knock on the door. There were two doors, Harry realised, but before he had time to fathom questions like 'why aren't I in a proper ward?' Sirius had transformed into the huge black dog and was hiding under the bed.

Harry groaned again when the door opened and Dumbledore entered his room. Behind him was a portly doctor in a white coat and black trousers. 

Harry wasn't in a very good position to see anything lower than waist height, so his usual plan of staring at the floor would not work. He stared at the ceiling instead. 

"So we are agreed," Dumbledore was saying to the Doctor. Suddenly, Harry didn't think he could be a doctor. Doctor's on TV and the one he had seen when he'd sprained his ankle at school wore stethoscopes. Plus, he just didn't look the doctory sort of person. 

They were usually cheerful, weren't they? But this man was frowning. But then again, loads of people frowned around Harry when he was flat out in a hospital bed. 

And now Harry was very confused, and settled his attention on trying not to look at him, but look at the interesting pattern of white and white stripes on the hospital ceiling. 

"He'll stay at school for the remainder of the summer and I send anymore information to this address," said the not-quite-a-doctor in a monotonous voice of someone who was under influence to say it. 

Harry didn't think it was a spell, just awe at being in the presence of his headmaster, who could be very awe-inspiring when he put his mind to it.

"Yes indeed," said Dumbledore. 

"And you confirm that a Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley are responsible for these injuries?"

"And their son!" put in Hermione. "Don't you dare forget him!" 

Grunning nodded. "Ah, I see Harry is awake," he said jovially. "Your picture's in every household in England, young man. Nasty eye you've got there," he remarked, nodding at a spot just above Harry's view.

Harry raised his hand, and realised immediately why half his vision was blurred. The left lens of his glasses was missing.  

_Remember to duck the stick when in comes round, you don't want your other arm broken. Whack! Whoops, not quick enough. There's another pair of glasses to add to the endless list of things Dudley's always breaking._

"It's honestly not that bad…" Harry tried.

Hermione jumped up and said something that she would never normally allowed Ron to say in public. "Harry, your arm was broken!"

"Dudley got a bit overexcited."

"He was threatening me with killing you! That's illegal!"

"Give it up miss," said the not-quite-a-doctor man. "He's not telling." He turned to Dumbledore. "I suppose you'll update me if he comes clean? It is rather hard to construct a full trial without the witness."

"But of course, Mr. Grunning," said the Headmaster. 

The man ran fingers through tousled hair. "Vernon Dursley eh… my brother sponsors his company, you know, great carpenter, my brother, I'm sure Mr. Dursley will be very excited to hear about that…"

"And very talkative too, I should imagine," said Dumbledore. "Hermione, your mother's waiting."

It was a dismissal, albeit a polite one. "Goodbye Harry. I'll see you when term starts. See you in a week." And she was gone, with a distressed look over her shoulder as she exited through the opposite door.

As Dumbledore extended a hand towards him, Harry realised he was fully clothed in what appeared to be hospital sweatshirt and trousers. They reeked of disinfectant. Harry supposed his other clothes must have been blood soiled. 

He let Dumbledore drag him to his feet. He shook a little, but remained standing. He managed a weak smile. "Right then," said Dumbledore. "No need to see us out, Mr. Grunning, I'm sure you have a lot of work to do."

Grunning left with an awkward "thanks," and Sirius crawled out from under the bed.

Dumbledore pulled out a glasses case from his deep robe pocket. It was shaped to fit exactly the outline of his half-moon spectacles. 

"This will get us back to Hogwarts."

Harry looked at the object. It had to be a Portkey.

_"Both of us," Harry said._

_"What?"_

_"We'll take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."_

_Cedric stared at Harry. He unfolded his arms. "You – you sure?"_

_"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah… we've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it together."_

_For a moment, Cedric looked as though he couldn't believe his ears: then his face split in a grin. _

_"You're on," he said. "Come here."_

_He grabbed Harry's arm below the shoulder and helped Harry limp towards the plinth where the cup stood. When they had reached it, they both held out a hand over one of the Cup's gleaming handles. _

_"On three, right?" said Harry. "One – two – three –"_

_He and Cedric both grasped a handle._

_Instantly, Harry felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground. He could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup: it was pulling him onwards, in a howl of wind and swirling colour, Cedric at his side…_

"Are you sure?" Harry asked tentatively, as he placed a finger over the case.

Sirius grunted as he transformed and touched the thing as well, not meeting Harry's eyes. Harry barely had time to hear him say, "You'll have to trust us on that one," before…

Professor McGonagall was extremely worried. Just three hours ago, Albus had come tearing down the stairs, calling that he'd be gone for a few hours and that this would explain everything. He'd shoved a Muggle newspaper into her astonished hand. 

Her breakfast hadn't tasted of anything after that. She hadn't moved from the great Hall yet, even after the plates and crockery had been magically cleared.

She sat in her seat at the teacher's table reading the front-page article over and over again. She had known it had been a mistake to give Harry to those people! Why hadn't she warned Dumbledore properly…?

And now there was nothing she could do. Nothing, just sit and wait for Albus to come back, hopefully with Harry in tow.

She found herself suddenly remembering the other teachers' reactions to the article.

Professor Sinistra burst into tears when she saw the front page as Professor McGonagall thumped it down before her. Minerva sat down slowly in her seat, watching.

_Sinistra passed the paper to Flitwick, who almost dropped it in shock. _

_"That's a Muggle newspaper," remarked Severus Snape the Potions Master dryly, staring disgustedly at the prone image of Michael Owen on the last sports page._

_"Just look!" squeaked Flitwick, throwing the paper at him. _

_Snape's eyes widened as he saw the headline and the picture of Harry, scarred and malnourished, a black eye rising on his face, holding his left arm as if fractured, or broken._

_No one could read Snape's expression. He just looked blank as her passed the paper, rather reluctantly, to Hagrid, who held out his hand for it. _

_Hagrid sat still, staring. He began to shake with sorrow and fury as he clutched at the thing, looking flimsy in his huge hands. _

_"What is it?" asked that new witch, Wendy Little. She placed a friendly hand on his arm as Professor Sprout teased out the paper from his sausage-like fingers.  _

_"Those ---" Hagrid spoke a word that made Professor McGonagall frown, even if she didn't blame him. "How dare they? As if that poor boy hasn't been through enough!"_

_"Let me see, Professor," said Professor Little, taking the paper from Professor Sprout. She stared open mouthed at what she saw. _

_"Oh my goodness," she whispered. "That's Harry Potter…"_

Suddenly Minerva heard a loud three knocks on the castle door, and loud barking. She leaped out of her seat as if electrified. 

She rushed ahead of Filch, who always seemed to turn up at times like this, to wrench the door open.

"Goodness Minerva," said Professor Dumbledore. "Do be careful!"

He was holding Harry upright by the arm that wasn't in a cast and sling. Harry looked exhausted, and that massive dog that kept popping up everywhere was standing as close as it could get to him. He was thin and pale, limping, and one of the lenses in his glasses was missing.

"In, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore. 

"What is this, an interrogation?" muttered Harry, but he let Sirius lead him into the entrance hall.

This reminded him of something.

"Professor – all my Hogwarts things, Hedwig-"

"Someone will be collecting them in time," said Dumbledore. "To the hospital wing, young man."

"What for?" said Harry. "I've just spent a whole _night _in hospital…"

"You don't really expect to be stuck in that thing for six weeks?"

Harry was about to say that Muggle children did, all the time, when McGonagall took Dumbledore's place on his left side, and all three of them helped him up the stairs to the domain of Madam Pomfrey.

She almost exploded when she saw Harry, and he sighed. He should have known _she'd _notice, even if no one else did.

"Potter! When was the last time you ate? Quick now!" 

Harry sank into a chair. "I can't remember."

"Oh yes you can Potter. A full meal… When?"

Harry decided not to tell her about the apples. Then he'd be branded a thief as well as a pathetic boy-hero.

"A week, then." Madam Pomfrey drew in her breath sharply. "What was it?"

"I don't know! It's not important!"

"I rather think it is, Harry," said Dumbledore from behind him, quietly. Harry took a deep breath.

"Er… bread. No wait! I remember! It was Dudley's lunch! I fished it out-"

He stopped. Madam Pomfrey was visibly shaking with fury. She whipped out her wand and tapped Harry's arm beneath the sling. The cast fell away in pieces and Harry could move his fingers again.

"Right then," said Albus Dumbledore, with a nervous glance at Madam Pomfrey. "I'll be in my office when he's done, Poppy."

McGonagall and the black dog followed the Headmaster out of the Hospital Wing door. 

"A week? Leftovers, a week ago? It's a wonder you're not being sick as we speak."

"I was sick at first," said Harry calmly. Somehow it was easier to talk to the matron than Dumbledore, Sirius, or even Hermione. "But I sort of – got used to it. And I think they gave me something at the hospital…"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head and bustled off into her office. 

"I don't know, Potter," she said when she emerged, two seconds later. "Seems to me you're in here more than other pupil ever at this school. But one," she added, pouring a thick, green potion into a goblet. It looked disgusting.

"Who?" said Harry, curious as to who could possibly get into as much trouble as he did. He felt he already knew though. "My dad, right?"

"Not quite," said Madam Pomfrey. "Although he was in here a lot. In my opinion, the only ones who should be called Quidditch legends are those who never get hurt. No, the young man I'm thinking of was in your exact position once, Harry."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Drink that, and then you can join the Headmaster."

Harry eyed the green sludge warily. It was almost an exact replica to the stuff he had whacked Crabbe and Goyle with his third year.

"What is it?"

"It is a nutrition potion. You're not going anywhere until you've taken it. Make sure you eat properly after it though, because another dose will get you addicted, and you won't be able to eat anything else."

Harry thought he might rather be doomed to the hospital wing for life, but he picked up the goblet and downed the potion as fast as he could. It tasted like mud, too.

"Fancy a game of chess, Ron?"

"No thanks, I'm reading."

"You know what Ron? I reckon Hermione's rubbed off on you. You haven't stopped reading that blessed book since she visited. What is it anyway?"

Fred made a grab for it, but Ron held it up out of his reach, letting George promptly pluck it out of his hands. 

He looked at the front cover. "_Intentional and Unintentional Magical Ties_," he read. "What a mouthful."

"What do you want to read that for?" asked Fred. 

"Oh, leave off, you two," said Molly Weasley from her armchair. "I think it's good that Ron is finally studying."

The twins sniggered. "It's _interesting_, all right?" said Ron, hotly, grabbing the book back. 

"According to this, Harry is only alive because of what is called a…" he flicked through the pages, "a sacrificial tie, the strongest of which being one's own life for the one they love. Class: unintentional."

"What's the difference, then?" said George, annoyingly. Ron didn't notice. 

"The difference is that an intentional tie is made when…" more flicking of pages. "When it is agreed by two or more people that a tie is to be established. This is done in advance and in preparation for what lies ahead."   

Molly looked up from her knitting. Ron could see what looked suspiciously like a maroon sleeve poking out from her bag. "I'm pleased for you, dear," she said. "If there's a test on Magical ties this year I'll expect you to…"

But an owl soared in through the window as she spoke. It was Hermione's owl, Madeline. Ron caught the letter it dropped and began to read.

Harry walked along the familiar halls of Hogwarts. It was a nice feeling to be home at last.  He thought of Hogwarts as his home. He was only away from it for six weeks of the year anyway. 

He now looked almost like a normal boy. The bruise around his eye had faded, as had the small cuts from the glass of his glasses, which were fully repaired at last. It was a relief to be able to see properly.

Madam Pomfrey had seen that blasted newspaper, worst luck. She had made him show her his back. There wasn't anything she could do about the old scars, but she made the new welts feel less sore. It almost erased the memories of Uncle Vernon's belt.

His leg working, his arm fully healed, and with a pleasant full feeling inside him as if he'd just eaten a huge meal, he made his way to the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the flight of moving stairs that led to Dumbledore's office. 

"Cockroach Cluster?"

It didn't move. 

"Sherbet Lemon."

Nothing.

"Ah." Sometimes Harry thought Dumbledore must keep changing the password to give other people fun while trying to guess it. 

"Right. Blood flavoured Lolly Pops. Fizzing whizzbees. Canary crèmes. Oh, yeah, like that would –"

The gargoyle sprang aside. Hmm. Harry wondered how Professor Dumbledore had found out about those. 

The staircase took Harry up to the old oak door, and he stayed outside for a moment, listening to the frantic conversation happening inside.

"Dumbledore, we can't just –"

"Have to do something –"

"Poor kid, all on his own with them –"

"Y' gotta do somethin' Professor Dumbledore!"

"Please! Will you all just stay calm! "

The room fell quiet, and the floorboards under Harry's feet squeaked just a bit.

"Don't be a stranger, Harry," came Professor Dumbledore's voice again.

Trying his best to smile, Harry walked into the room. The whole of the teaching staff were there, (apart from Snape) including a woman Harry had never seen before, whom he supposed must be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. 

"Better?" asked Dumbledore. Harry nodded.

"Good. Do sit down." Harry sat down in a vacated seat next to Sirius, who was curled up on the rug beside the fire with one eye open. He looked a little thinner too, Harry thought.

"As for the rest of you," said Dumbledore with a flash of his baby blue eyes. "Scat. This is not the time."

"But, sir –" said Professor Sinistra, who looked like she'd been crying. But then, Professor Sinistra was a weepy sort of person anyway.

"I will see you all, later," said Dumbledore firmly. "Wendy, stay here, if you please."

They all filed slowly out of the room, with the exception of the stranger woman, and Hagrid, who paused on his way out to give Harry a hug. Harry felt tears come to his own eyes when he saw them shining in his friend's beetle black ones. 

"I missed you, Hagrid," he said.

Hagrid only nodded, and ran out of the door after tiny Professor Flitwick.  

"Harry," said Dumbledore when everyone had left. "This is Professor Little. She will be tutoring you in Defence and Attack until and after term starts. 

Both adults smiled when they saw Harry's face light up. "Really?"

"Really," said Professor Little. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Harry."

"And you, Professor," said Harry. 

"Tell you what," said Little, with a grin. "Call me Wendy when we're alone, right? I can't stick all this Professor business. I don't know what your mother would have said if I told her I was a Professor." She let forth a tinkley laugh. 

"You knew my mum?"

"Best friends at Hogwarts," said Wendy, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We'll start right now, until your stuff gets here, right Professor?"

"By all means," said Professor Dumbledore, smiling as Wendy led Harry out of the office. 

Sirius stood up and whined after them. Harry gave him a wave, Wendy didn't even look up.

As soon as they had left, Sirius Black the human appeared in Dumbledore's office. 

"Why did you have to hire her, Dumbledore?"

"Come now, Sirius."

"She knows everything about me. She'll guess it's me after a while."

"Which is precisely why you must not stay at Hogwarts."

Sirius looked up sharply. "But – Harry…"

"Harry is safe now. If you are willing, if you are ready, I have a mission for you."

He explained it. Sirius' eye's lit up in much the same way as Harry's had when he had learned about his tutoring. The Dursleys could wait for now. There were bigger fish to fry.

"Is this it?"

"Yep, that's the lot."

"What, a school trunk, a few piles of clothes, a pillowcase and an… owl, did you say?"

"Yeah, it's in the front room."

"Well…" the sergeant searched for something to say to the impertinent young officer. "Well, what's in the pillowcase?"

"Er… a couple of letters, birthday cards, quill and ink, Sarge."

"A _quill?_" 

"Er… Yeah Sarge. Oh, and this." The young officer held out a tattered old book. "I think it's a diary, Sarge. Only I can't understand a flippin' word it says. S'like another language."

The Sergeant took the book from the officer and opened it at a random page. He couldn't understand it either.

The writing was strange, curly symbols, that looked as if they had been drawn rather than written.

It made no sense! Tired and annoyed, the Sergeant stuffed the diary back into the pillowcase. 

"They're no good to us. Might as well give to the man when he comes."

Professor Dumbledore picked up the pillowcase and took out a tattered old book. He whispered an apology to Harry as he opened it, but then his eyes widened. It was in no language he recognised. It wasn't even in an alphabet he recognised!

Hurriedly he put the book into the bottom drawer of his desk, to be fathomed at a later date. He only hoped Harry wouldn't notice it was missing. Despite his calm appearance, Dumbledore cared more than many people about what had happened to Harry over the summer.

**There. At last, it is there. Whew. 

Here be thanks:

VampireLover, Dark Whispers, Illustrious Sorrow (I can't work out whether that was a complement or not), Gabriella (that's true) Lady Python (that's dangerous, talking to computers), littleginblossom, Lei Dumbledore, lil lupin (see top), black panther, Kim, Bobbie (know what you mean there), das (see top) Lucerito-del-alba, Lupin's Niece AJ, goddess of insanity and pauru, ratgirl,  

Katherine: Man you're fast! What do you do, check every ten seconds whether I've updated? Oh well! You are right, I need to consider Voldie…

Summersun: Sorry I didn't go into too much detail about Sirius' reaction, there will be more when Remus enters the story properly. Thanks for reviewing, and yeah, there are a lot of people who hate me for my cliffhangers. 

Lady FoxFire: ahem. MY Harry torture? Twist? Well, yeah, I guess you could say that. I haven't seen it anywhere else. But neither have I seen anything like your fic before either! (Ewwwww…) I really grossed all my friends out with quotes, I can tell you. They won't leave me alone about it now.

Sky Chief: Who gave whom a glow? Yeah, I like doing Hermione; she gives you so many options. And… that's why I do AN's! Nothing better than annoyed reviewers… no? OK, I didn't do any this chapter. But sometimes… there are things you just have to say!!!  (jk)!

Pie: I try to stay clear of memory charms. They confuse things. Er.. can't think of anything I haven't said in my email… oh well. I know about mini cliff-hangers! Muahahahahaha!

Bumblebee Bucy: You know what? I reckon you must be the most well known non-Harry writer in the category. Your name is like on every thanks list! Well, I have been working my way through your favourites list… (he he)

Hypfan: see top. Hey! I'm British and I don't talk like that! God, you're on the net till one in the morning? That's harsh, that is. Do you ever get out? (jk)! Really liked your review, keep reading please!


	4. A Living Tracking Device Called Sleeve

** HO YES! I have done my Art project and now have… another one. Damn. If I get another project this term off ANYONE I shall self-distruct.  

I'm getting a DOG! Whoopee!!!! 

Anyway. I finally got off my bum and did the next chapter. It's your entire fault if I fail my French departmentals. 

For those of you who are mean and want me to get on with my other fics as well, 

To Change the Past

Return to Noonvale

And

Alan

All will hopefully be added to during the holidays. At the moment this is all I have time for!

Disclaimer: I am only thirteen, and am not clever enough to own Harry Potter or any other great books like that. I hate disclaimers. They're annoying.  **

"Right then, Harry," said Professor Little when they had reached an empty classroom. "Let's get straight to it. What can you do already?"

Harry didn't hesitate. "Grade four curses, stunners and impedimentas."

Wendy smiled at the young man's eagerness to learn new curses. "And defence?"

Harry couldn't say why, but somehow he felt completely at home with this woman. It was as if he had met her somewhere before. "I… I can do a Patronus."

Wendy's eyes lit up. "Can you really?"

"Yes. Professor Lupin taught me in my third year."

Wendy froze at the name. "Lupin? _Remus _Lupin? " 

Harry stared at her. "Yes…"

"But… no one told me he was a Professor!"

"He's not anymore," Harry said gloomily. "He quit at the end of his first year. The school found out about…"

He stopped, wondering how much Professor Little already knew. 

"His monthly problem, right?"

Ah. She did know. "Yes."

Professor Little put her palms on the desk behind her and pushed herself up onto it, like a small child. She bit her lip. 

"I've been in Poland," she said quietly. "My husband took me there after…your parents… died. My parents were in Africa and my… I didn't really have anything else left in Britain. I haven't seen anyone for fourteen whole years."

Harry stood still, waiting for more, but none came. Professor Little laughed instead.

"Oh well, I guess I'll be seeing some of my old pals soon enough anyway. Snape first, unfortunately. It was a shock meeting him. I hadn't thought it was possibly for him to get any greasier, but I was wrong."

Even Harry laughed at that. 

"Right, so Harry. You do know why we're doing this, don't you?"

"In case something happens again like it did last year?"

Wendy winced. Evidently Professor Dumbledore had filled her in on the details. 

"Well, yes, mainly that Harry, but there's another reason. Professor Dumbledore wants to find out the extent of your powers. He told me you had gained some from your connection with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

It was a while before Harry realised that it was a question. "Oh, right, yeah. I can speak Parseltongue and the sorting hat nearly put me in Slytherin."

"Exactly. What we want to find out is whether he gave you anything… else."

Harry listened with bated breath. Using Lord Voldemort's power against him… now there was a happy irony.

"Firstly," said Wendy, hopping off the desk. "Have you ever tried spells without your wand? Not just magic – everyone can do that – actual spells."

Harry felt as if Wendy's eyes were seeing right through him. Only the fact that he knew she couldn't be really, kept him from telling her the ultimate truth. 

"Isn't that impossible, Professor?" 

"Not in the slightest. And call me Wendy. Your father had a particular knack for it, as I recall. Nothing huge, just Accios and wingardiums. He used to give people such frights by summoning and levitating things – usually people – just with his hands."

Harry remained silent. He discovered afterwards that Wendy was not the best storyteller in the world, always cutting off right in the middle, or what seemed like the middle.

Almost absent-mindedly, she stretched out a hand and touched his forehead, a finger either side of his scar. "Have you ever tried?" she asked, almost dreamily. 

This is one of the freakiest people I've ever met, thought Harry, but still managed to lie.

"No."

When Professor Little drew back her hand from his face, she was smiling. "You liar," she said, amused.

"What?" 

Still grinning broadly, Professor Little raised the same two fingers to her own forehead, in precisely the same position.

"My name is Wendy," she said. Startled, Harry watched as a circular area of skin around those fingers glowed bright green.

"My name is Harry Potter," said Professor Little, and that same area of skin glowed suddenly a dark red. 

"Impressive, isn't it?" said Wendy when she took her hand away and saw Harry's stunned expression. 

"But… that's unreal! You shouldn't be able to do that, or else everyone would be doing it to everyone else!"

"That's true," said Wendy, thoughtfully. "I'd better not teach it to any of the Professors, or it'll make a couple of dozen students very unhappy…"

She laughed at the look that still lingered on Harry's face. "It's just something I picked up in Poland, Harry. Hardly anyone can do it, so you don't have to worry about anyone touching your head and finding out who you fancy…"

Harry grinned sheepishly. He _had _been thinking something like that. 

"So, when did you use wandless charms then Harry?"

"Over the summer," said Harry, resigned. "I think I did it by accident the first time, and then when I realised no one was going to expel me I kept doing it."

He said it with self-disgust in his voice, which quite alarmed Wendy. "What did you use?"

"A… a concealing charm. On my face."

Harry waited a few seconds, then went on. "It's not fair! I should have been able to fight them off! I'm a wizard, I'm stronger than they are, and they're afraid of me when I've got my wand, but as soon as they take it away…"

He shook his head vigorously. "I'm useless without it. I'm small and weak and useless. Everyone says so…"

"Some day I shall have to meet this man, 'everyone'," said Professor Little. "He has such incredible views on life."

Harry looked away, ashamed of his outburst. 

"Harry," said Wendy. "You are not useless. You escaped Voldemort four times."

"That doesn't make me special," said Harry. "I never actually did any work. My mum and Dumbledore saved me the first two times. The third time I would've died if it hadn't been for Fawkes. And the forth…" he shivered. "It was my wand again."

Wendy didn't say anything. 

"It's not that I don't like my wand, actually I'm quite attached to it, but if it's not there I'm lost. Out in the open. I'm skinny, and I'm…"

"Is this you or 'Everyone' talking?" asked Professor Little kindly.

Harry didn't want to face her. He wasn't lying. He was hopeless. Now he was even feeling sorry for himself. What about Mr. and Mrs. Diggory? What about the kid and the little baby? Shouldn't he be feeling sorry for them?

"Harry, would you like it if I taught you wandless magic?"

Harry looked up sharply. "You can do that?"

"Well, I don't pretend to be an expert, Harry, but we can have a damned good try, can't we?"

Harry grinned.

"Good. We'll start at the best place – the beginning."

In the space of three hours, Harry was starting to get the hang of simple, wandless charms. He was also rather enjoying himself.

"Harry!"

"Whoops, sorry, Professor." Harry threw her back her hat, which had flown into his hand at a mere wave.

"I think we'd better stop now, Harry. Look at the mess we've made."

Harry turned and looked. They had moved to Professor McGonagall's main classroom, for the increased amount of space and air. It was now completely upside down. 

Books littered the floor, as did countless stacks of parchment, quills and old essay papers. A marking scheme for 'Transfig. N.E.W.T' was sitting on top of an old birdcage, which had not been there previously. 

A few chairs had also been overturned, and somehow some of the posters were no longer the right way up. 

Harry smiled. "Can't we just do a bit more, Pro -…Wendy?"

Wendy looked around at the chaos the two had inflicted. She remembered the teacher's wrath all too well. 

"Well, I suppose we could do a bit more… Yes, all right Harry. You're going to use your new powers to tidy up this room."

Harry groaned and turned towards the door. "I've changed my mind, actually. I think I'll just…"

"Oh, no you don't," said Professor Little, grabbing him by the back of his itchy spare robes. "I'm set on the idea now. Thank you so much for bringing it up, Mr. Potter."

With a quick reflection never to trust Wendy Little again, Harry got to work, a huge grin on his face as the marking scheme missed his hand slightly and hit his new teacher in the face.

  Harry's things were already in the dormitory when he arrived there half an hour later. Chucking the huge book onto the bed, he opened his trunk to check that everything was there.

He gasped at the sight that met his eyes. Inside were brand new, perfectly sized Muggle clothes, a full new set of books for the year and a bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate. 

There was a note on top of all the things. It read,

_Dear Harry,_

_Sirius is in fine spending form. He wanted you to have these. He will repay me when he is freed. He says to count it as your birthday present, and I think there is something else in there that is from Remus as well and will aid you in your studies. _

_Good luck and Happy Birthday_

_Professor Dumbledore._

Harry stared at the note. All this was from _Sirius? _ He'd already given Harry the best present he'd ever had, the Firebolt. He couldn't possibly afford this!

Eagerly, despite his worries, Harry knelt down and started going through the things. They were all the best quality clothes he'd ever owned. 

Putting them aside extremely carefully, he picked up the books one by one. Most were nothing special. 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5', 'Intermediate Transfiguration 2nd Edition' and 'An Index of Famed Witches and Wizards since 1900' were just some of them.

But then Harry noticed a smaller book. A little blue one without a title. Harry opened it and saw on the first page:

THIS BOOK BELONGS TO ____________ (Please Fill In)

And that was it. But just those words made Harry think of something that made him snap the book shut and dive back into his trunk. He pushed his school robes aside as he frantically searched for it.

It wasn't there.

The diary was gone.

It took a few frantic seconds for Harry to realise that no one would actually be able to read the diary.

He took a few deep, calming breaths. Would you rather freeze to death…

There was a knock on the door. 

Wondering who possibly could have got into the common room, Harry opened it. 

It was Professor Little. She beamed at him. "Got everything you need, Harry?"

"Yes," lied Harry. "Wendy, how did you get in without the password?"

Wendy laughed. "It's not too hard, Harry. They're always pretty much the same. I'm a Gryffindor too, remember?"

Harry hadn't known, but he _did _remember what Wendy had said about her being best friends with his Mum. He was bursting with questions about her, but he decided to leave it until things had calmed down a little.

He also wasn't sure he believed her story about guessing the password. They were invented so they couldn't be guessed. One of the house-elves had told him the current one was 'Oojimaflip'.

Oh well. He had the whole year. Plenty of time to find out more about Professor Little. She certainly didn't look the werewolf type. 

"C'mon then," she said. "Dinner's up."

"What, already?" Harry started to look as wrist, then remembered he no longer had a watch.

"Of course. We were at it for about four hours, you know."

Professor Little and Harry walked all the way down to the Great Hall, excitedly talking about wandless magic.

Despite Wendy's assurances, they were early. Professors Vector and Sinistra were the only ones at the staff table when they arrived. 

An extra chair had been added between Professor Little's and Hagrid's for Harry. The only bad thing Harry could see about this was that Professor Snape would only be one chair away.

They sat down, still discussing their lesson, Harry trying not to notice the way the other two witches were avoiding his eyes. 

The other teachers came one after the other. When Hagrid rushed in, looking red-faced, he gave Harry a bone-crushing hug and an apology for his previous weepy behaviour.

Embarrassed, Harry managed to get him talking on the subject of what they were going to be learning about this year. The way Hagrid kept sliding off the main topic and elaborating on the smaller ones made Harry feel that he and his classmates were in for another interesting term. 

Professor Snape sat down, grudgingly, next to Wendy. 

"How're you doing, Severus?" said Wendy cheerfully.

Snape looked up and glared at her, and it was probably good that the food arrived at that point, or he might have said something scathing. 

Harry had never seen Snape eat so much. He was almost eating as much as Hagrid, which was saying something. Wendy was also giving the wonderful Hogwarts food her all. 

Harry, on the other hand, couldn't eat more than half his steak and a couple of roast potatoes. He fiddled with the carrots for a while, and then ate them slowly, thinking desperately how much he didn't want to throw up at the staff table. 

Everyone had noticed, Harry knew, but no one was saying anything as he made his way doggedly across his plate, all eyes occasionally flicking towards him. 

In the end, when the first course had nearly been devoured by most of the faculty, Dumbledore spoke up.

"How was your first lesson, Harry?"

Thankfully, Harry pushed his plate away. "It was hard," he admitted. "I got the knack of it in the end though, and Wendy says I have 'Transpersonal stamina'."

"Oh? And what is that, exactly?" asked Dumbledore with a smile.

"Not a clue," said Harry. Everyone (except Snape) laughed.

Wendy blushed a little. She was saved by pudding, which Harry, despite his resolve to eat as much as he could so he would never have to take that disgusting nutrition potion again, could not touch.

Apparently, neither could Snape.  He sat looking at the huge spotted dick in front of him with distaste. Puddings obviously weren't his forte at the best of times, let alone now when he'd just devoured half the other food. 

As Harry sat looking at him, the only two people who weren't leaving but were too polite to get up while everyone else was, he could've sworn he saw something moving underneath Snape's robes, right in the middle of his right forearm.

Snape hissed slightly as his garment wriggled without him moving. __

_And something hissed back._

Harry leaned over his plate to get a better look. Something rather long and thin was curling around Snape's arm under his robes.

"Stop moving, you irritating man…" 

"Professor Snape," said Harry slowly. Snape was not the only one to look up in astonishment at being addressed willingly by Harry. Quite a few of the other teachers looked interested.

"Professor, there's a…"

"I KNOW, Potter," Snape hissed through his teeth, as if in pain.

"But it's a…"

"I KNOW! Don't say it…" His voice trailed off as the circling stopped. This seemed to terrify him. Harry had never seen Snape look scared before. He took a mental picture, just in case he ever needed stimulation during this.

"What is it, Severus?" said Dumbledore, curiously, putting down his fork. 

Snape didn't answer. He had gone white. 

"Harry?"

Harry only looked at Snape. "I could… get rid of it…" he said tentatively. 

Snape looked absolutely venomous at the suggestion, but it seemed he had no choice. Slowly and carefully, he stretched out his right hand, past Professor Little, who pushed back her chair, and before Harry.

Harry took his hand. He felt burns and rough skin beneath his fingers. The movement beneath the robes restarted, and Harry took a deep breath. 

He couldn't have said afterwards, how he had known what to do. He closed his eyes, and said in a soft, low hiss that everyone present could hear,

"Why are you hiding, brother?" 

And the answer came. Harry was only a little surprised. He had never actually heard a Snake's voice before.

_"I am awaiting a sign of treachery."_

_"Treachery to whom?" _asked Harry. 

Hagrid and all the other teachers, unable to understand, stared in horror and disbelief at Harry and Snape, who had his eyes closed too.

_"To my master."_

_"What will you do when this sign comes?"_

_"Strike!"_

_"Why?"_

_"Because my master asked me to."_

_"Don't you decide things for yourself?"_

_"I am not yet old enough."_

_"Would you like to come to me? I promise I'm not as nasty as Snape."_

_"You are… asking me?"_

_"It's your decision. Only aren't you bored, just waiting on his arm?"_

_"You are kind, but a strange one. Not many can speak our tongue."_

_"I know."_

_"Would you really like me to come?"_

_"Yes, please."_

Harry opened his eyes as the Snake emerged from the end of Snape's sleeve and curled up Harry's own forearm, on top of his jumper. He had never seen anything quite like this snake before.

It was long, and very thin, with a triangle shaped head. It was completely back from head to the tip of its tail.

_"I hope you don't mind me asking, but what are you exactly?"_

_"I am a death fang."_

_"A what? I've never heard the name."_

_"My master created us. Ages and ages ago. Before his power was lost and he fled our world. We are afraid of him, and of men. We hid. Now he has recalled us, and sent us back into man's world. _

_My master is not kind, nor well spoken, as you are. Who are you, young one?"_

_"I am Harry."_

_"That is a good name. Who are all these other men I sense around me?"_

_"My teachers."_

Reminded of where he was, Harry looked up at everyone else. All of them were sitting well back in their seats, staring, except Snape, who stood up with a sigh of regrettable relief. After a few seconds, he muttered. "Thank you, Potter," and he left.

Harry stared after him, gob smacked, the black snake hissing contentedly on his arm. "Did he just… _thank _me?" he asked everyone else.

"I think he did," said Professor Dumbledore with a small smile. "New friend, Harry?"

"I hope so," said Harry. "At least it'll be easy by now to recognise all the Death Eaters. Just look for the ones with snakes on their arms." 

He stood up. "I'll just… take him upstairs," he said, nervously, edging away from the table, trying to avoid Hagrid's eyes. "We'll talk there."

And he ran out of the Great Hall. When he had gone, Professor McGonagall whispered, "how did he know about Severus' charade of a Death Eater?" 

No one answered.

_"This is your home?" _asked the Snake when they reached the common room. 

_"As much as it'll ever be," _replied Harry happily. He settled on a big armchair by the fire. 

_"Ahhh," _said the snake, sliding off his lap and stretching out on the rug. He covered about a metre of it. _"Nagini is always by the fire. Now I have a space by _this_ fire, with _my_ own master!"_

Harry didn't even try to put the Snake right. 

"So… do you have a name?" 

_"Of course."_

_"Well, what is it?"_

_"It is Toxica Caninus."_

_"Poison Fang? Isn't that a bit of a …girl's name?"_

_"Do you mean… female?"_

_"Well, yes."_

_"It is, isn't it? My old master tends to slide towards the more feminine titles. Do you have a better idea?"_

_"Well, you ought to have a simple name. How 'bout just… Sleeve?"_

_"Hmmm. Sleeeeve," _said the snake, trying it out. _"I rather like it. Any particular reason…?"_

Harry decided he was going to keep that to himself. _"No, not really."_

Professor Dumbledore sat in his old chair behind his desk, and opened the diary for the hundredth time, but with a new insight. The happenings at dinner had opened his mind to a new, impossible, idea. 

The weird, italic letters curled around each other, not in straight lines but round and about the page. Yet it looked neat. One of the pages, near the end, was splattered in blood. 

After a moments thought, Dumbledore stood up and made his way over to the bookcase. He took out a thick, old volume that could have been there since it was written about a thousand years ago.

He sat down again, ran a finger down the index, turned a couple of hundred pages, and began to read. 

A small, balding man with a hand by his side made of silver, made his way down a dark passageway. His eyes darted left and right as he moved, ever onwards into the dark. 

_He reached a door eventually. He knocked, ever so gently, as if hoping the man inside would not hear. _

_He failed however. "Come," said a voice from within, a cold, merciless voice. _

_Peter Pettigrew entered the room. Harry followed him in, knowing oh too well what was about to happen. _

_"M…my Lord…"_

_"You have good news, I hope?"_

_"Yes, m…my Lord. All the death fangs have been distributed. An act of disobedience towards you will be punished immediately by death."_

_"I KNOW THAT, Wormtail! Tell me something I do not know! Give me news, something I can be happy about, and make it quick."_

_Pettigrew just stood there, staring at the raised chair before him, not daring to lift his head and meet his master's eyes. _

_Harry, on the other hand, stared unblinkingly into that hated face, the face he had destroyed and then brought back to life. The face of the man who had killed his parents, Cedric, that tiny baby and its brother…_

_"Er… er… I cannot, I cannot think of anything, Master…"_

_"Crucio."_

_Harry swore out loud as his scar exploded. His legs buckled slightly. _

_"I am not pleased. Not pleased at all, rat."_

_Mist started to cloud Harry's vision. Both hands clutched tightly over his scar, he stood still, waiting for it to push him back to bed._

And so it was that at six o'clock the next morning, Harry was sitting up in bed, reading one of his new books, 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5'.

Sleeve was sleeping on Harry's trunk, after having moved there from the end of his bed when he started to toss and turn in the night.

His brow creasing in a look of concentration, Harry flicked his wand at the jug on the windowsill. "Rotatis". It began to spin, slowly. It sped up gradually until the water inside was a mini whirlpool, which rose slowly out of the jug and then…

Flopped back down into it. 

Harry frowned. Almost unconsciously he placed his wand on the duvet beside him. This time, he only waved his hand. 

"Rotatis."

It worked. Instantly the jug spun around, and the whirlpool lifted out of the water. A stray piece of parchment began to fly towards it.

"Finite incantatem!" The parchment and whirlpool both dropped. Pleased with himself, Harry put down his book. 

Turning over on his side, he saw the little blue book he had left discarded the night before. He beckoned to it, and it came into his hand.

He flicked through the pages, but they were all blank, apart from the first one, which still read…

 THIS BOOK BELONGS TO ____________ (Please Fill In)

Harry shrugged and motioned to a quill, which speeded into his hand. He couldn't help grinning when he imagined Ron's face when he saw Harry doing this all the time. 

He dipped the quill in ink, and wrote his name in the blank space. 

With horror, he watched as the ink faded into the page, as did the printed writing. 

Oh no.

Not again.

He wanted to close the book, but he couldn't, not while he so wanted to see the return message. 

And it came. 

'Hey, Harry! You took your sweet time in writing!'

The words faded away. Harry stared for a second, then, ignoring his conscience, wrote,

'Who are you?'

The writing as it returned was neat and perfectly aligned, not a hand that Harry could ever remember reading before. 

'Only a certain godfather who happens to be extremely worried about you!'

Oh dear. 

'Sirius?'

'That's right! Gees, you're slow.'

'But, you're still alive!' Harry wrote frantically,

'How can you be writing to me?'

'Ah. Well, that might take some explaining…'

The words faded to nothing but a blank page, and Harry waited with baited breath for more.

**Oh, what a terrific place to end the chapter.  I suppose I'm gonna be on quite a few blacklists after this…

Here be thanks

**Skahducky, **hyperwriter, fizzysoda, callas-and-ivy, Pathetic Invader, velondra539, rowan.  __

Hpfan: thanks loads for your ongoing enthusiasm. Man, do I love big words. Anyway, don't you love it when that happens? Seeing someone updated? Hope you liked this chapter and have no more quiries on the states of affairs in Britain. At the moment news is all and only about firemen. No child abuse cases at all, luckily.

Evil Snapple Pie: need I say more? Your story was brill! Sorry I haven't had time to write recently, I've been doing this! Er… yeah. About the diary. You weren't actually meant to be able to understand the words. I did that by accident. I hope I remember to repost the chapter. Shh!

Shichan Goddess: **holds up hands at wave of too many words** Ok, ok! You liked it! Nearly crying, eh… only nearly? Maybe later I will write a chapter that will really make you cry…

Lil lupin: You're not the only one who got confused at the end… True what you said about Remus. Now, how can I bring him in…?

Rebekah: Thanks for reminding me! Must clear that particular mystery up at one point.. Yeah, I wasn't so sure about the whole Hermione helpless thing either but I kind of liked the idea. Thank you!

Lady Foxfire: Damn! The Dursleys! Better write that one down as well… please update a broken child please please please please please!!!!

Xia Sarrasri: Hello!!! Glad to find you sympathetic. Thanks for reading P+A. I wrote it for English. Thought maybe someone else should get to read it. Read again!

Bumblebee Bucy: President who? Ah, well, never mind. Thanks for your compliments (again) and thank you for reviewing P+A (twice!) 

Ashes: Yowch! 5 on a Friday. How harsh.

Funny, I thought it was gonna take longer than that. Sorry if I missed you out. 

Thanks also to anyone who read Phillippe and Araya, my little English Story. The teacher wrote that it was 'gothic melodrama' and that I should be reading more classical books like Wuthering Heights. And I was like… hmm.. there's a thought… nah!

Next chapter may take a while, may not. Depends how nice they are to third years at our school near the Christmas holidays. But as soon as they come, prepare for mega updates!!!

~*~*~*~*Laterose*~*~*~*~


	5. Far too much to happen in the space of a...

**Yes! Can you believe I'm finally updating? Christmas holidays are officially here! December, and I'm home free!!!!! You'll never guess how I've chosen to spend my time…

This was originally written for Jesus, but don't you think it reflects Harry's story as well?

_This little babe,_

_So few days old_

_Has come to rifle Satan's fold_

_All hell doth at his presence quake _

_Though he himself for cold do shake_

_For in this weak unarmed wise,_

_The gates of Hell he will surprise._

_With tears he fights, _

_And wins the field_

_His naked breast stands for a shield_

_His martial ensigns Cold and Need_

_And feeble flesh his warrior's steed._

_Benjamin Britton 'Ceremony of Carols'._

Disclaimer: I stick by what I said before. I can't seem to remember ever owning anything like Harry Potter, I'm just thirteen, for crying out loud! **

'Well,' came back the writing,

'I'm not actually writing it. I'm thinking the words onto the page. My copy of that book is currently at Remus's, about six hundred miles away. That's why it doesn't look like my handwriting.'

Harry thought about it, not dismissing the idea that this might be a trick of Voldemort. 

'But then, how can you know what I'm saying?'

'It appears on the palm of my hand. Cool, isn't it? Remus rigged it. He's probably reading our whole conversation right now, safe in his house, in the dry.'

As soon as those words faded, new ones appeared before Harry had a chance to ask Sirius what he meant. But he knew _that _handwriting. He'd seen it on a forth of his defence against the dark arts essays, and of course on the short PS's on the end of Sirius' recent letters 

'Shut it, Padfoot. You wanted to go on that mission, and it's your own fault that you are where you are now.'

'Where is he Professor?' wrote Harry.

'Sitting in a puddle somewhere in Edinburgh,' came back the familiar hand. 'And call me Remus, Harry.'

'Right.'

The ink of Harry's last word faded into the paper.

'Harry,' came Professor Lupin's writing. 'You gave me a hell of a scare.'

'I know.'

A pause. 

'Did he really punch you?' asked Harry, meaning Sirius.

'Yes.'

'Sorry, Moony.' 

'That's all right. I haven't seen you explode like that since you found out that Snape had snuck bright pink hair dye into your shampoo bottle.'

Harry laughed out loud.

'Don't you dare laugh, Harry,' said Sirius' next words. Harry couldn't help it. 

'You going to tell us what happened, Harry?' came Remus' hesitant writing. Harry stopped laughing and dipped his quill.

'No.'

'All right.'

Harry started. What? That was it? No more questions?

'You'll tell us eventually,' thought Sirius onto the page.

'Don't count on it,' Harry wrote. 

'Anyway, that's not the point,' said the neat Professor's writing. 'There is a reason why Dumbledore let us do this, Harry. It's a very advanced form of communication, you see.'

The words faded away.

'Does he always take so long over a story?' Harry asked.

'Evidently,' replied Sirius. 

'Well,' 

'Get on with it, Moony.'

'All right, all right. Well, the reason Dumbledore let us do this is'-

'We're going to teach you to become an animagus,' interrupted Sirius. 

Harry stared at the words, his eyes burning into the paper as they faded out of sight.

'Harry?'

'Really?'

'Yes, really. Dumbledore thinks it could be one of the most useful skills you might acquire. Under the usual circumstances he wouldn't have let you try it, but since we're teaching you'-

'Doesn't he think it would be better for Professor McGonagall to teach me? No offence.'

'None taken. No, Harry. You may not have noticed, but Professor McGonagall'-

'Is a old bat.'

'Will you stop interrupting me, Sirius! I was going to say that Professor McGonagall is a particular stickler for rules. She probably wouldn't like the fact that you're underage, or that fact that you're not going to register.'

'I'm not?'

'Nope. We couldn't stand the paper work.'

'That is not the reason, Sirius.'

'I know, I know. Gees, lighten up.'

'The reason, Harry, is that it wouldn't do for everyone to know that you were an animagus, your form and its markings and so on. That way it would hardly be an advantage to you. That is also why you must keep this an absolute secret, Harry. Even from Ron and Hermione.'

Harry could see that quite easily.

'But, doesn't it take years to become an animagus? I won't be able to practise that much once school starts, if I have to keep it a secret from everyone.'

'Well, usually it does take years, but you have a shortcut. Believe it or not, not many people become animagi when their parents were as well. But in these special circumstances, it becomes a lot easier for them. Certain security stages can be'-

'Skipped.'

'Well, I was going to say 'skimmed over'. Basically, to be an animagus there are countless spells and charms you have perform on yourself to stop yourself staying in the form and so on. But those spell are already installed in your blood, so basically'-

'We'll have you up and running in about a fortnight.'

Harry sat stunned. An animagus in two weeks?

'So,' said the book's default handwriting. 'You pleased?'

'You bet.'

'Good. We start tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow?'

'Yes. Professor Dumbledore told us to give you a day to recover.'

'Spoilsport.'

'Take care of yourself, Harry.'

'Sure.'

And there was no more.

_"What are you doing?" _Sleeve had woken up.

_"It's a long story, Sleeve."_

_"Ah. In that case, I probably will not understand."_

Harry smiled. 

_"What will you do now?"_

_"Well, I was thinking of playing some Quidditch before breakfast."_

_"Quidditch? This is the game where you are…"_

_"In the air."_

Sleeve made a noise which was halfway between fear and disgust. 

_"In that case, I think I will go back to sleep."_

Harry laughed and grabbed some of his new clothes and his Quidditch robes. After hastily pulling them on he grabbed his Firebolt from his trunk and flew down the stairs to the common room. 

He went out of the portrait hole, ("Good morning, dear!") and down seven flights of stairs to the entrance hall, and from there made his way out to the Quidditch pitch, wishing for the ten thousandth time that it was permitted to fly out of the small windows of the tower. 

Once on the pitch, he mounted his broom, excited. He hadn't flown since the First task last year. 

With a good sharp kick off, he zoomed into the morning air.

After about ten minutes warm up, which consisted of twenty laps around the goalposts, (one of Fred and George's least favourite exercises), Harry began the easy Seeker and multi-position tactics and manoeuvres, one by one, doing as best as he could without any other players.

He performed a quick confunder, spinning round an empty space which might well have been an enemy player.

Then, the Seeker's turn, upside down and backwards for about three metres, then a spin the correct way up. He caught an imaginary Snitch with a whoop of triumph.

Finally, he reached the most difficult move. The Wronski Feint.

His throat dry, he prepared for the dive. He rose another five metres into the air. 

Whoosh!

Anyone watching would have seen only a red blur. The wind whistled piercingly through his ears and hair as he dived smoothly, down… down… and then he pulled out, about six metres from the ground.

He landed, cross with himself. He'd never had a problem with dives before. The only difference was that it was much higher, and much faster…

He practised the Wronski Feint for an hour, not able to pull out of the dive any lower than five metres above ground level, before he realised he was late for breakfast. He was also starving.

Leaving his Firebolt and robes in the changing room in the hope of coming back after his lesson, he made his way back up to the castle and the Great Hall.

The Staff were already there, apart from Snape, who quite obviously was not a morning person during the holidays. 

"Good practise, Harry?" asked Professor Vector, whom Harry had never even spoken to before, as he came in.

"Er… yeah, not too bad," said Harry, not really concentrating as he ran over the dive over and over again in his mind. It took him about five seconds to realise.

"How did you know I was practising?"

"I think everyone has spied on you at some time during the morning, Harry," said Professor Little. 

"Now, now Wendy," said Professor Flitwick. "Spying is such a strong word…"

Harry sat down in his chair with a thump as everyone laughed. He felt embarrassed. All the teachers had witnessed those awful dives…

"You're incredible, Harry," Wendy said to him as he turned slightly red, forking sausages bacon and mushrooms onto his plate. 

'Mmm."

"'Course you are," said Hagrid.

"There aren't many kids your age who can do a Wronski Feint," said Professor Sinistra. 

"But I can't," said Harry quickly. 

"Of course you can," said Professor McGonagall. "What was that you were doing out there then? That was no multi-position move."

Harry shrugged. 

"I used to be a Beater, you know," said Wendy suddenly.

Harry stared at her. Wendy, a Beater? Little Professor Little? She was barely taller than he was!

She laughed at the look on his face. 

"Surprised? Oh, I might be small, but I can pack a mighty punch."

Harry smiled despite his recent disappointment. "I'll believe that when I see it."

All the teachers winced.

"Wrong thing to say Harry," said the Headmaster. 

"Oh, I'm sure that can be arranged," said Professor Little with a glint in her eye. "I'll take you on one day. Not just yet though. When you're ready."

Harry looked up. Did she mean what he thought she meant?

"You mean you'll…"

"Oh, sure I'll teach you. After all, I got taught by my brother, and he was one of the best."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a while, as though Wendy had said something that would have been better left unsaid. Harry also noticed that she had used 'was'. So her brother was dead then. 

Luckily, the post arrived at that moment. 

Harry grinned widely as no less than five owls swooped down on him in affection, some with letters, some without.

Hedwig had nothing. Harry felt guilty as soon as she swooped onto his shoulder and nipped his ear, because he'd forgotten about her in the excitement of recent events. He supposed she must have escaped the Muggle officers somehow, as he remembered seeing her cage in the dormitory.

Errol had for once made a decent landing in Harry's lap, the parcel around his leg almost falling off by a fraying piece of string, whereas Pig was trying to get himself out of the soup bowl in complete hopelessness. 

Madeline, looking freakishly like Hermione as always, was perched solidly on the edge of the toast rack, looking pleased with herself for delivering her letter. 

Flash, on the other hand, was behaving oddly. He was a magnificent bird, but quiet and withdrawn, just like Remus was. 

Now, however, he was making large circles in the air above Harry's head, hooting loudly.

Harry put his hands over his ears. "Flash, what's up? Are you Ok? Is Remus Ok?"

Flash didn't even show that he'd heard. He continued his demented circles, making a noise to waken the dead. 

"Hagrid, what's wrong with him?"

"Look!" squeaked Professor Flitwick.

Harry looked up. Another owl swooped through the windows of the Great Hall. 

It was _a large brown owl with a massive wing span. _

"Don't I know you?" Harry whispered as it settled right in front of him. He untied the letter from its leg, but almost before he was finished, the owl flew off again. 

He looked at the envelope. It read simply – Harry Potter. 

In a trance almost, Harry put one finger underneath the flap, but then…

"Flash!"

The tall greying owl knocked the letter clean out of his fingers and it flew into the centre of the Hall. 

Where it burst into flame.

And then words rose out of the fire as it died away. Words in a horrible, compelling voice that made Professor Sinistra put a hand to her mouth.   

"Don't think you've got rid of me so quickly, Harry Potter! One day I'll finish the task boy, just you wait and see…!"

And there remained only a pile of ashes.

"What, you're going to try again?" Harry said sarcastically to the ashes. "For the forth time? A little behind schedule, aren't you?"

Everyone else relaxed stiffly into their chairs, most of them still staring either at the small pile of what remained of the letter, or at Harry.

It appeared that out of the many things Professor Dumbledore hadn't told his staff, he had let them know, one way or another, that Voldemort had returned. 

Professor Dumbledore however, looked thoughtful. 

"I hope we will not have to expect to many of those in days to come," he mused. 

"So do I," said Harry viciously. "Pass the toast please."

As he had planned, his apparent eagerness to eat at last put the letter out of almost everyone's minds. 

He read through the other letters he had received briefly. Errol had brought a whole box of assorted sweets from the Weasley twins. Harry made a mental note to feed them to someone else before he tried them himself. 

Ron and Hermione's letters demanded news about how he was doing at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had informed both of his position. Ron's was evasive and Harry supposed he was uncomfortable about the whole Dursley issue. He did say however, that he had had a thought and he would talk about it when they got back to school.

Harry guessed he wouldn't be getting much news from Hermione until the new term, seeing as she had left for Bulgaria that morning. Harry felt slightly sad at that, although he couldn't say why. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she had practically saved his life.

"Right, Harry. On to the next step."

They were sitting in McGonagall's classroom again; Harry perched on the edge of his seat. 

He found himself fervently wishing that whatever the step was, it wasn't going to make nearly as much mess as the Accio spell had. 

"Well, one of the most needful defence spells is a shield. A Patronus is an example of a shied. Not a particularly good one, but…"

"Why not a good one?" said Harry indignantly.

"Oh, it's a good enough spell all right," said Wendy dismissively. "But it only works against Dementors, you see. A proper shield should be able to protect you against other things, spells and curses, right?"

"Right."

"Well, it's easy enough with a wand, but we're aiming for a double whammy here."

Harry smiled. "Wands first?"

"Spot on."

Harry pulled out his wand. 

"Good. The spell is-" she paused. "I wonder if this is a good idea."

Harry lowered his wand.  "Come on, miss. You can't just stop the lesson right in the middle." 

"I wasn't even going to suggest stopping it, Harry. I was just thinking, you manage Accio without the spell, don't you? You did that without me even telling you you could."

"So…"

Wendy grinned at him and he sighed. "Why does it always have to be different for me?"

"Because you are very special, Harry. You get to be my guinea pig."

"Bully for me."

"Language, Potter. Now, what I want you to do is concentrate fully on protecting yourself. It's very like conjuring a Patronus, except I'm not going to give you any summoning words."

"Brilliant," Harry muttered, but he closed his eyes and began to concentrate. 

"You won't get anywhere with your eyes closed, Harry." 

Harry rolled his eyes at her and she giggled. "All right." He looked closely at the end of his wand and willed something to happen, like he did with a Patronus. He felt rather naked trying to do it without the words. 

Protect me, he thought.

Slowly, very slowly, something began to come out of the end of his wand. It looked like a strand of silver fire. 

Then another appeared, stretching out in the other direction. Then another, and another. The shear effort of keeping them there was making Harry sweat as they spread into a star shape. 

With a sudden whoosh of energy, the air between the strands of fire blazed with silver fire. Pure silver fire. It was beautiful to watch. 

Just past the shield he had conjured, Harry could see Wendy. She put out a tentative hand to touch the fire. Swiftly she drew it back as if it burned her. 

Harry stopped his concentration out of concern for his teacher and new friend, and the shield vanished.

"'Ery 'oo' 'arry," said Professor Little, sucking her fingers. She pulled them out of her mouth and looked at them.

"Are you all right?" asked Harry, a little worried. 

"There's no lasting harm done," said Wendy with a smile. "That was excellent, Harry. If you'd kept it longer I could've tested it for its immunity to spells."

"I'll do it again."

"Not yet. Get your breath back. Then try it without a wand."

Harry stared at her. "But I've only done it once, even with one. Shouldn't I keep practising that one first?" 

"No. I don't know if you've noticed, but we haven't got all that much time."

Harry disagreed with that inside himself. They had enough time until he decided he was going to try and kill Voldemort. That was the bottom line. When they next met, it was going to be on his terms, not on Tom Riddle's. 

They talked for about five minutes, about the theory of the shields, until Wendy decided Harry was ready to try again. 

"Hold out your hand."

Harry did. 

"Now, make the support lines come out of each finger and your thumb. Then tell them to connect. Usually your wand would do that for you, but you alone are controlling this particular shield."

Harry tried to remember that particular part of him that had been concentrating to create his wand shield. Once he found it, he tried to make it create the same strands of fire. 

After about a minute he gave up. "It's not working."

Wendy bit her lip in her own, child-like way. 

"Maybe we were wrong. Maybe I can only do one wandless spell."

"And maybe you don't believe enough in yourself. Tell you what, let's put you into a real situation where you'll need to use a shield."

"You're going to curse me."

Wendy chuckled. "That's what makes it fun, Harry." She levelled her wand at him. 

"Visortia!" 

Harry ducked out of the way just in time. That curse would have blinded him for an hour if he'd been hit by it. 

Wendy sighed as he dusted himself off. "That's not the idea, Harry."

Harry looked up at her sheepishly. "I know." He walked into a clear area where there were no desks and stood with his hands on his hips. "All right. Hit me with it."

Wendy laughed out loud. "Oh, Harry! You do look noble standing like that! Ok, while we're at it…"

She waved her wand, and in an instant was suddenly wearing a long black cloak and a matching mask in the manner of Death Eaters. She cackled an evil cackle. 

"Muahahahahaha! Now what, Potter? I have deprived you of your wand, so what will you do?"

It took Harry a second or two that this was meant to be a game. He grinned. "I shall strike you down to the ground!"

"Indeed?" Wendy laughed again, in a fake deep voice. It was quite a good impression.  "Without your wand? You should be grovelling on your knees, boy!"

Harry noticed her make a little downward gesture with one hand, the one that wasn't holding her wand. He understood. 

He fell to his knees, a pleading expression on his face. "Oh, no kind Death Eater! Please don't hurt me! I'm just a sweet little boy! You can't kill me!"

"Want to bet?" said Wendy. Harry thought that might be a bit of a step down, because he couldn't imagine any Death Eaters _he _knew saying that. Wendy was certainly a good actress, though. 

She lifted her wand at him again, black mask menacing. "Gergoria!" 

Harry wasn't quite ready for it this time. On his knees, he couldn't run or dodge, or in fact do anything to get out of the way. He raised his hand protectively, willing something, _anything _to happen, and the silver shield flared up again, but this time from his palm and all his fingers. 

The curse sped toward the shield, connected with it, and exploded. 

Wendy's costume was off the instant Harry took his shield down. He was white and shaking as she helped him up.

"Are you Ok?"

"Yeah, yeah… I can't believe it worked!"

"I can. You certainly are an extraordinary boy, Harry."

Harry looked up at her, into her deep, bright blue eyes. What… or who… did those eyes remind him of? He couldn't think, he couldn't remember…

"You were good too. That voice!"

"Thank you. I was quite an actress in my time."

Harry laughed. "You seem to have been everywhere and done everything, haven't you?"

"Almost, Harry. Almost. I believe that there is no point in an education unless it's going to help you sometime in the future. I never teach a lesson without a real situation re-enactment."    

"So now what?"

"Now we practise it again, until you can hold it for longer and with stronger curses."

She grinned maliciously, as if she was going to enjoy that part immensely. Harry prepared himself for a long afternoon.

Sleeve hissed as Harry entered the room. 

_"Any stories to tell?" _he asked as Harry climbed wearily into bed. He grinned as the snake moved up the bedclothes until he rested around Harry's neck. 

Would you rather freeze to death…

_"It's been a really long day, Sleeve," _he said. _"A really long day."_

** Hooray! Another chapter up and running. Did you like it? Drop me a review!

Here be thanks: 

(You must forgive me if I miss someone because several people reviewed my last Author's note and I can't tell whether I have already thanked them.)

Autumn Dreams, Lucerito-del-alba, Kim, illustrious sorrow, little gin blossom (too right!), hyperwriter (as of yesterday), chibi, Lanfear (hehehe), unknown, djf. 

Reiken: You are right, I am trying to keep Wendy a mystery for as long as I can, but she might come to light in a couple of chapters, and some people have been making dodgy guesses…

Liza Potter: well… yeah December but not holidays. It is Now though! Yippee!

Angel Baby: Now, you wouldn't believe it but you are the first person to pick up on that…

Potter-Pikachu: Thanks! Sorry if I wasted any of your life by taking so long, but you would be paying a hell of a lot of money for the phone bill if you checked every five minutes. I also enjoyed your stories very much. My best to Sirius and Remus.

That's it? Now I know I missed someone. Sorry peeps. Pleeeeeeeeease review! I'm a junkie for them, nobody's fault but my own, I know. My mum, she says, "It is impossible to get high on reviews, dear," and I just say "no it isn't!"

Ahem, sorry, it's another of my trademarks. A pathetic attempt at being funny. 

Love Laterose.


	6. And the battle for life as we know it ha...

**You'll never guess. I've finally got a plan. Cheerful title, don't you think?

Great reviews, people. Some people are making dangerous guesses, though.

I got a laugh out of something. Anyone who thinks 'miss' is American has a serious misinformation problem. No one actually calls the teachers 'Professor' here! Well, they might do in huge universities like Oxford, but honestly, can you really see Primary or secondary school kids saying "Professor"? 

He he he, sorry, but I just had to mention it. Does it seem cruel to you?

Thanks everyone. Full thanks below as per usual. Hope you enjoy this chapter, which was actually planned (totally against my character). I'm rather proud of it, actually. It is sad at the beginning, then funny, then sad, then funny again, and then just plain weird. Kind of describes me, doesn't it? **

It was a country cottage this time. Very small and delicate. Venerable. Strings of flowers hung from the thatch in the roof, and pot plants full of colour decorated the windowsills.

It had only just turned dark. His feet carrying him beyond his control, Harry walked straight through the door, which was painted bright red with a gold knocker.

He walked into a bright room lit with candles. The fireplace was empty, but chairs and sofas crowded around a rug in the centre of the room.

As soon as he had entered, a small shape below his waist whizzed past him. Taking a step sideways, Harry saw that it was a small child.

She looked to be about six years old. She had a cascade of golden hair, looking for all the world like a fairy tale princess. She giggled outrageously as a woman who could only be her mother scooped her up and laughed. 

"Now, to bed," said the woman. 

The little girl's face fell, and her bottom lip trembled. "Must I?"

"Yes, you must," said her mother. 

With a squeal, the child escaped from her mother's grasp. She ran around the room once before running to the door and pulling it open. Harry saw the flash of her hair as she skipped out of the door…

Harry heard the scream, and saw the flash of green light before he was overcome by the pain in his scar. He clutched at a sofa to stay upright. 

The woman screamed in fear for her child. She ran toward the door, but was thrown back across the room by a beam of red light. She remained on the floor, screaming and writhing in agony. The Cruciatus curse.

Harry backed towards the fireplace as Death Eaters spilled into the cosy room. 

Voldemort entered, black cloak billowing around him, red eyes staring mercilessly at the blonde woman before him. 

"So this is the place," he whispered, his words hissing past his lips. 

One of the Death Eaters had run into a back room. When he returned, he presented his Master with a pile of papers. 

Voldemort smiled. It was a chilling sight. Harry backed away, towards the fireplace, the woman's pain echoing in his bones. 

"Well done," Voldemort told her. "You have managed to stay hidden this far. But no longer, wench." He pointed a finger almost carelessly at the defenceless woman. "Avada Kadavra."

The force of her death pushed Harry through the fireplace and onto the grass outside. He lay there for a while, hearing the muffled sound of the Death Eater's laughter. It was such a familiar sound…

He pulled himself up, and waited for the dream to take him back to school. Nothing happened for a moment. Then he saw a sight that made his blood run cold.

The body of the little girl lay not five feet from him. Her face stared up at him, frozen in am expression of terror. Her eyes seemed to be accusing him. 

Harry felt tears coursing down his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so, so sorry." He reached out to touch her face, to say goodbye, but then his scar blazed, and he

Sat up in bed. 

It was 3 o'clock in the morning. 

"Why do you always awake so suddenly?" Sleeve asked, rather indignantly at being woken. 

"Sorry," said Harry. He was sweating. He got out of bed, the pain slowly receding from his head. 

He found a bowl of water and splashed his face with it, shivering as his pyjama top got soaked. 

Almost without thinking he picked up the plain blue book by his bedside. His heart leapt. Today he was going to have his first lesson at being an Animagus. But it was far too early at the moment.

Harry got back into bed and tried to sleep, but couldn't. His excitement mixed with his ultimate fear of another dream, and his memories of the last one seemed to prevent his brain from shutting down. 

At five o'clock, Harry picked up the book. The old writing was back on the first page. 

THIS BOOK BELONGS TO ­­­­­_____________________ (please fill in)

Again, Harry wrote his name in the space. No sooner had he done so, Sirius made his presence known.

'Good morning!'

'Same to you.'

'Excited?'

'Like hell.'

'Good for you. It's too early in the morning for this.'

'Will we always do it at this time?'

'Don't see anywhere else we could fit it in. Remus has a job, and you have work to do. Me, I just sit here in my puddle.'

Where's Professor Lupin?'

'Probably still in bed.'

'Ha. Fat chance. I'm right here.'

'Oh, good. And I thought I was going to have a chance to have some fun.'

'Oh, shut up.'

'I didn't say anything!'

'You thought it. It's the same thing.'

'Why is it a fat chance?'

'What, Harry?'

'That you're still in bed?'

'I don't sleep well nowadays. The full moon's only just over.'

'Oh, sorry.'

'No worries. Did you sleep well, Harry?'

Harry paused. Should he tell them? He decided not to. He didn't want to worry them further. 

'Not too bad.'

'Nightmares?' 

Damn it. How on earth did he find out about those? Dumbledore was making odd choices as to what information he gave to whom.

'Yeah.'

'I don't suppose anyone's asking me whether I slept well?' was Sirius' question.

'No. We already know you didn't.'

'Yes, but it helps to tell someone about it.'

'Did you sleep well, Sirius?' asked Harry.

'Now you've done it, Harry.'

'Well, since you come to mention it, I didn't actually. Maybe I should book with a different travel agent next time. I appear to be sleeping in a cave somewhere where it never stops raining, my shoes are soaked through, my robes look like I've been pulled through a hedge backwards several times, I think I've got a cold coming on, and Buckbeak ate all the food last night, so I'm hungry as well.'

'Glad you're enjoying yourself.'

'Shut up, Moony.'

There was a pause.

'Can we start now?' asked Harry.

'Oh, yes, yes, of course,' came Remus' writing. 'Well, Sirius knows more about this than I do…'

'Thank you,' said Sirius. 

'But I have read everything about them, and Animagi are some of the rarest creatures in the world.'

'Are you calling me a creature?'

'Oh, shut up. Anyway, what you need first is theory, Harry. Solid facts and rules that'll help you as you go along. That part of it will only take two days.'

'Count yourself lucky Harry. James had us at it for six months.'

'How did you ever pass tests? Or get your homework done?' Harry smiled at how much he sounded like Hermione.

'Remus helped out. A lot. And we cheated on the tests.'

'Sirius!'

'I was only joking!'

'Well, don't go putting ideas into his head.'

'That's Ok, Pro'- he scribbled that out, 'Remus. I won't cheat.'

'Good. You won't have to anyway. You can do your homework in the evenings once school starts, after your extra lessons.'

'How did you know about that?'

'Dumbledore wrote and told me.'

'Right. So, hit me with it.'

A couple of hours later, Harry regretted that. His head swimming with all he had learned that morning, he made his way down to breakfast. 

As before, everyone was there before him. 

"Hello!" said Wendy with a smile. "What have you been doing this morning? We were all anticipating another stunning performance."

"Slept in," Harry mumbled. He sat down and piled bacon onto his plate. The food was very filling. He wondered vaguely whether they had full English every morning.

'A certain amount of control is needed, Harry. If you're not careful, you'll get stuck in that form forever. Not a good idea, I can tell you. Plus, the last thing you want to do when you're on a mission is to go chasing after a rabbit that conveniently sends its smell right up your nostrils'...

'Like you did, you mean?'

'Well, yes... but that's not what I'm saying. Don't let your instincts get the better of you Harry. There will be times when you'll need them, but they're not always right.'

"Harry?"

Harry sat up, jerked out of his reverie. "Are you all right?" asked Wendy. All of the teachers looked concerned, apart from Dumbledore, who gave him a very small wink. 

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

The post arrived then. Harry looked around suspiciously for the brown owl, but it didn't come.  Everyone else looked just as relieved as he felt. 

Evidently, Hermione and Ron had been satisfied with the answers Harry had sent them in his break the day before, and had not sent him anything else. 

Not that Hermione would, thought Harry, and then wondered why he'd thought it. 

At that moment, Professor McGonagall, who had received a copy of the Daily Prophet, almost spat her orange juice over the front page. She lapsed into a coughing fit, and Hagrid's pat on the back did nothing to ease it. 

When she had finished, she gasped. "Oh that poor girl!'

Professor Sprout relived her of the newspaper, and tears sprang to her eyes as she saw the headline.

She passed it to Dumbledore, who was looking grimly curious. 

He glanced at the first paragraph, then closed his eyes, and put the paper down in his lap.

"What is it?" asked Hagrid, eagerly. "What's 'appened, Professor?"

Dumbledore looked up at them all. "I am sorry to say that Angela Darling and her daughter have been killed."

Harry froze. There was a stunned silence.

"Rainbow too?" whispered Professor Vector. 

Dumbledore nodded. "That particular stronghold is no longer safe," he said.

Something inside Harry twisted like a knife. Rainbow Darling. That was her name. That little girl he had seen lying lifeless on the dew drenched grass, her eyes staring sightlessly into his. 

She had a name. Her name was Rainbow. Her mother had been called Angela, and he had watched them die. 

It made them seem so much more real, somehow. He had even been able to bear the death of the little boy and the baby, because he hadn't known them. They might just have been part of some wild fantasy. 

But these people were real. That tiny child on the grass, horror stricken in her last moments, her name was Rainbow Darling. 

Wasn't it? He had to make sure.

"Did they…?" he croaked. He cleared his throat, aware of all the eyes upon him. 

"Did they have blond hair?"

Everyone stared. Then Professor Vector said, 'Yes, Harry. Rainbow had the most beautiful hair in the world. Why?"

"Excuse me," said Harry. "I think I'm going to be sick." He ran out of the room and didn't look back. 

He was sick in the end, after about half an hour's painful grinding in his stomach. He washed his face and swilled out his mouth, then made his way up to McGonagall's classroom. 

Wendy was already waiting for him. 

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," Harry replied. Wendy was wearing a very odd expression. 

"You Ok?" she asked. 

"Yes," said Harry firmly. "I'm fine."

Wendy looked decidedly uncomfortable, and for some reason, it seemed familiar. Those eyes…  

"Is there anything you want to talk to me about, Harry?"

"No."

"All right." She cheered up a little then. "Well, today's lesson…" She grinned evilly. "Is a hell of a lot of theory."

Harry groaned.

"Yep," she went on. "I've been putting it off for too long. If I let you run loose as you are, I'll have the ministry down on my head." 

Her face darkened. "Not that they aren't anyway," she murmured.

"So," she said, brightening up. "We start with wandless spells, then we move on to shields, and then curses. The books are there."

She gestured toward a pile of books that reached the height of the desk it stood beside. 

"You're joking!" said Harry. "There's enough books for a lifetime there!" 

"Well then," said his teacher with the same irritating smile. "We'd better get cracking, hadn't we?" 

The surprising thing was that it wasn't so bad. Professor Little went through everything with him, making each concept sound so easy that they got through the theory behind wandless magic and shield casting, with and without wands, in about two hours. 

Then they made a start on the other books, which were chock-a-block full of some of the most interesting and difficult curses Harry had ever seen. 

Wendy even let him try a few of them, but only once or twice each.

"There'll be plenty of time for learning these once you've got the rest of this stuff under your belt," she said. 

"You mean I'm actually going to be learning these?" said Harry, incredulously, looking in awe at the images of the 'deoria' curse, which were all of various witches and wizards who looked like they'd been caught very unprepared. 

One of them hadn't made it to the bathroom in time.

"Of course," said Wendy. "What do you think I'm teaching you?"

"But these spells are beyond the seventh year!"

"I know. You need them more than the seventh year do, Harry. You really do. Therefore, you're going to learn them, and you're going to learn them fast."

Harry really hoped that wasn't a threat. 

Not all of the spells were curses, of course. Harry read about invisibility spells, levitation, disguise charms, weather incantations, and Entrancing Enchantments.

"Entrancing Enchantments?" exclaimed Harry. 

"You never know," said Wendy with a wink. 

Harry shook his head. Somehow he doubted that with Death Eaters at his heels, getting anyone to fall in love with him would be the last thing on his mind, unless it was Voldemort. He shuddered at that possibility. 

Wendy only laughed, and took him through the general science of how Mirror Magic worked. 

That caught his eye, because it was a lot like animagi. You had to have the person facing you, and then form yourself into his or her image. It was very hard, and the only alternative to Polyjuice Potion.

Four hours later, Wendy told him to stop. "There's no point in carrying this on," she said sensibly. "Take the books with you and finish them up if you want to. Don't look at them too closely, or you'll be reciting this stuff in your sleep." She shot him a grin. 

For a moment, a flash of recognition zipped across Harry's brain, but it had gone as soon as it had started. 

Would you rather freeze to death…?

He smiled back at her, grabbed the books they had not yet finished, and left the classroom. 

Professor Dumbledore wasn't having the greatest of luck with his big old books in his old dusty bookcase. No where was there a history of there ever even being a written language that slightly resembled Harry's diary. 

He had long since discarded his original idea to search elsewhere, but it came back to him as he slumped in his chair, unable to concentrate further. 

Harry had a very strong connection with Voldemort - that was evident. Somehow Harry had seen Angela and Rainbow Darling before, perhaps without meeting them. 

And if Voldemort had…

Dumbledore shook his head. If he was right, then no one would get any answers. 

He looked out of the window. No owls came swooping toward him out of the autumn dusk. 

The Muggle newspapers had arrived from Mr. Anderson as usual, but that was all. No letters, no requests for statements. 

Dumbledore happened to know about Muggle law.

He had told the policeman in charge of Harry's case to send all information to William's address. And so far… nothing. 

The Dursley's needed their comeuppance. But they had to do it right. 

Albus knew he had been lucky just to stop Sirius doing it himself. They'd have more problems if the Harry's relatives got murdered too. Sirius knew that, thank Merlin. 

Dumbledore sighed and went back to the problem he had been chewing over since breakfast. 

Angela Darling's home had been only one of five strongholds for anti-ministry wizards set up in Britain. Sirius was keeping an eye on another, he hoped. The other three were protected, but no more than the Darling's house had been. 

They had a problem. 

An immediate problem. 

Voldemort had the plans for Fudge's destruction. 

Not good. 

The house had been burnt to the ground. 

The closest 'safe-place' to that was the one in Edinburgh.  

Definitely not good.

The excellent Hogwarts food left Harry feeling full and contented as usual. It didn't take much to make him feel full. He'd only managed half of what Madam Pomfrey would have liked. 

On his way back up to the dormitory, he paid a call to the library. Madam Pince wasn't in there of course. 

Glad to be alone so that no one could see, Harry took the three books that Sirius had recommended he read from the shelves. He was slightly surprised that they weren't in the restricted section.

As he ran up the staircase to Gryffindor tower his mind wandered back to the murdered girl and her mother. A flash of green light sped across his vision, and then a scream…

"Have a good day?" said Sleeve when he at last got back to the common room. 

"Great," said Harry. It wasn't a complete lie, after all. "What about you? Did you find something to do?" 

"I have been exploring. It was fun. I even ran into that slimy man a couple of times."

Harry thought about that. Snape had looked a little shaky at dinner. 

"You didn't do anything to him, did you?"

"No. But I was tempted."

Harry hissed with laughter. 

"What is funny, Master?"

"I'm not your master, I'm your friend."

"But then…"

"Is it so hard to understand? You're free. You don't have to be here."

"I am protecting you."

Harry sat down in a chair. Sleeve slithered over from his favourite spot by the fire and up his leg to sit in his lap.

"Are you sad?'

Harry wiped away the tears and smiled at his friend. 

"No, Sleeve. Just… don't get too carried away with the protecting thing, right? I don't want you accidentally killing anyone who's just giving me a friendly pat on the back."     

"I understand."

_"You know what?"_

_"What?"_

_"Some people never ought to have been born."_

_"And some snakes also. But that is the way things are."_

_"Yeah. You might be right. I'm going to bed. Coming?"_

**See? How was it? How many of the jokes did you get? 

Ah, well, that's not surprising. There weren't that many in the first place. But I thought the deoria curse was ingenious, myself. 

Here be thanks:

Anonymous, Maryanne, shdurrani, mysia, summersun, AllAboutMe, Liza Potter, Dominey, Anonymous 2.

Pleiades: I didn't know that _was _a tradition. Nope, I reckon I have other plans…

August wynd: I hope this will help you keep our sanity. Do your really have a 

friend like Wendy? That's interesting. I've created a character with a real-life counterpart!! He, he, he.

Karania: Too right it doesn't fit. Don't worry, I have it sorted.

Bumblebee Bucy: Er, heh, heh, thanks for that information. Oh, yeah, and your great review. I like exclamation marks too.

Skahducky: It's right there in the chapter, and – I'm not going to tell you.

Bohemian Snitch: I'm going to put Draco in as much as possible once school 

starts. You're right, it does blow that Dumbledore is reading Harry's private book, but he is looking for clues to help him determine what happened. I can tell you that he finds them in a very interesting way.

Kim: yep, that's the idea. 

Lucerito-del-alba: sorry for my sceptical note at the top, I did get a really good 

laugh though. Hagrid _was _out for the summer, but it is the last week and he's come back. More on Hagrid next chapter.

Hypfan: The title rumour isn't a rumour, it's a definite. I won't answer your 

questions since you don't want me to (barking) but thanks for a great review and deep reading!

Potter-Pikachu: Yes, I'm definitely going to have fighting scenes, with and without 

magic, with as much detail as possible. I know you like it – it's as obvious as anything in your own fics. Not this chapter though, unfortunately. It must have been boring for you! 

Whoops, I've been a whole week, haven't I? That's a lot of seconds. I hope you kept yourself occupied!! Hiya Sirius!!! Do you like your part in my fic?

Carey Miles: It is pretty common, isn't it? It's such a great idea though. Whoever 

thought it up first must be really annoyed by now…

Kisha Zebelyskaya: I don't see the logic in any of your reasoning - so you might 

be in for a surprise! Thanks for a great review.

Lanfear: Yikes! Sorry!

Pie: What on earth are you doing? Even I can't stay up that late! You have to go 

to school, right?

Autumn Dreams: Looks like Bumblebee's not the only one who likes exclamation 

marks… Yeah, well. I do it a lot.

Hey, cool! That's a lot! See you next chapter peeps! 


	7. The Boy Who No One Ever Explains Things ...

**Hi peeps!! I'll tell you what; holidays are disappearing like they only lasted a couple of days. No time to lose, I guess.  
  
NOTE: An especially long chapter today, as it's Christmas. Don't get used to it!  
  
Disclaimer: forgot this last time. Er.  
  
Disclaimers are stupid, They don't mean a thing, Sue me for this, And I'll be so mad I'll hit you over the head with a very hard frying pan and an oversized spanner.  
  
Thank you.  
  
I think it is time that I explained all the different inverts and font styles I'm using for different situations. I don't want anyone unable to follow the story. If you get it, skip this part.  
  
"Writing in Italics and Speech marks are in Parseltongue - snake language."  
  
'Writing in inverted commas means the words are appearing in the magic diary or on Harry's hand.'  
  
This is a thought being transferred onto paper  
  
'Writing in Italics and inverted commas is. well; actually that's a secret. Now, that wasn't too hard, was it?'  
  
Weird chapter coming up, but then most of them are, aren't they? Once school starts (in the story) I might have to change the title. That'll confuse a lot of people. **  
  
  
  
"Captain Harry Potter, the best seeker the English team has seen in years, heads towards goal. Can it be - aw! Interception by German chaser Futmann, and Potter speeds downwards. Has he seen it? Is it - no! Incredible diversion pulled off by the England captain there, German Seeker Holffwud crashes to the ground. Wait a moment! Potter's off again, oh, this is the real thing this time YES! I don't believe it! HE'S GOT THE SNITCH!"  
  
Harry awoke with the roar of the crowd ringing in his ears. For a moment he wondered what had woken him. Then he felt a pain in his left hand. A kind of dull throbbing.  
  
It felt strangely familiar. Like in second year, in the chamber of secrets.  
  
Harry froze, hardly daring to take out his hand and look at it. Had Sleeve suddenly had a change of heart about just whose side he was on? Or had he never been on Harry's side?  
  
Slowly, fearfully, Harry ran his fingers down across his palm. Funny. He couldn't feel a wound.  
  
When he finally plucked up the courage to look, it wasn't a snake bite, but it was nearly as bad. He gasped in surprise.  
  
Words were flashing across his hand, and then disappearing.  
  
'Harry? Harry, where are you?'  
  
Harry stared. "I'm right here," he said to his hand.  
  
The words continued to come. 'Harry! Wake up!'  
  
Suddenly Harry remembered Sirius' words that he had seen in the book.  
  
'The words appear onto the palm of my hand. I think them onto the page.'  
  
Harry concentrated. I'm here he told his hand, and to his delight, the words appeared on his hand, in the handwriting the book used when people used it in this fashion.  
  
'I'm here.'  
  
'Harry! At last!'  
  
'I was asleep.'  
  
'I realise that, you ass.'  
  
'I thought I couldn't do it this way?'  
  
'So did I, but I had to try, didn't I? It's already six o'clock!'  
  
Harry glanced at his watch, and then remembered it didn't work. He took it off in disgust, and glanced at the sundial by his bed.  
  
There was no sun up yet, but it showed the time anyway, in the form of a ray of light emitting from the centre of the structure. Sirius was right.  
  
'Blow.'  
  
'Too right.'  
  
'That you, Remus?'  
  
'Yes it is. Now get the book, Harry, quickly so we can get started.'  
  
'Why don't we just do it this way?'  
  
'There is a reason for the book, Harry. Go fetch it.'  
  
Harry threw one final thought at his hand I'm not a dog before getting up to fetch the book. Sleeve hissed impatiently as he shifted the duvet.  
  
Quickly as he could, Harry grabbed his quill and ink, and penned his name in the gap.  
  
'Finally,' said the book's default. 'What on earth were you dreaming about, Harry?'  
  
'Quidditch,' Harry put simply.  
  
'Ah,' came Remus' hand. 'That explains it.'  
  
'It was a good dream though,' Harry tried to explain. 'First one for months, see. A normal dream.'  
  
There was silence for a moment (not that any sound actually commenced during these lessons).  
  
'Do you think he's planning something?' said Sirius' words. It didn't say whom the question was addressed to.  
  
'What, Voldemort?' asked Harry.  
  
'Later, Harry,' Remus insisted.  
  
'Oh, right. Still theory today, huh?'  
  
'Yep,' came Sirius impudent reply. 'Bet you love it.'  
  
'Oh sure. I'm up to my ears in it. Wendy - that's Professor Little - she's got a really big thing about it.'  
  
There was nothing for a while.  
  
'Harry - what's she like?' asked Sirius.  
  
Now that was strange. Why did he care what Wendy was like? Was he afraid she was a Death Eater in disguise? Well, he wouldn't be too surprised, considering her talents, but really, she was far too - well, nice - to be one of the enemy.  
  
'She's Ok.'  
  
'She's healthy?'  
  
Weird question, Harry thought. Then he remembered.  
  
'Oh, of course! You went to school with her, didn't you?'  
  
'How did you know that?'  
  
'She told me. Well, she told me she went with Remus and my parents.'  
  
'Yes, but'-  
  
Remus quickly wrote over him. 'That's enough, Sirius.'  
  
Sirius appeared to have relented. 'All right then,' he said. 'Let's get to it.'  
  
By the time they had finished theory animagi lessons, Harry seriously needed a Pensieve.  
  
'So, are you going to tell me then?' he asked.  
  
'Tell you what?'  
  
'The reason for the book.'  
  
'Oh, right! Well, wait till we're gone, and then have a flick through. You might be surprised.'  
  
'Although this way is kind of cool.'  
  
'That is so not helping, Padfoot.'  
  
'I thought you never needed help.'  
  
'Are you ever going to let me live that down?'  
  
'No.'  
  
'Seriously.'  
  
'I always am. That's what they named me for.'  
  
'Your way is cool, Sirius, but you know why Harry needs the book, don't you?'  
  
'Of course I do. But you've got to admit, it gives a whole new meaning to the words 'palm reading'.'  
  
Harry burst out laughing at that, and it took him a while to calm down. He just couldn't get the image out of his head, of Professor Trelawny grabbing his hand to see the lines and reading things like, 'another of the famous golden rules.'  
  
By the time he'd calmed down, Sirius and Remus had gone. He flicked through the book, page after page of blank diary entries that were never used.  
  
In a sudden burst of inspiration, he turned the book to August 28th - today. Nothing happened.  
  
He was just about to give up, when he saw a line forming. A line, right in the centre of the page, in thick black ink.  
  
And then the words:  
  
YOUR NAME HERE: _____________________________  
  
Rather dubiously, Harry obeyed. He wrote his name clearly on the space, and waited.  
  
But instead of just one line, the whole page filled up. Filled up completely with words.  
  
Puzzled, Harry read the first lines.  
  
'Finally. What on earth were you dreaming about, Harry?'  
  
'Quidditch.'  
  
'Ah. That explains it.'  
  
'It was a good dream though. First one for months, see. A normal dream.'  
  
'Do you think he's planning something?'  
  
'What, Voldemort?'  
  
'Later, Harry.'  
  
'Oh, right. Still theory today, huh?'  
  
'Yep. Bet you love it.'  
  
It was all there. Their whole conversation. At the bottom were two little blue arrows, one pointing upwards, and the other pointing down. When he touched the 'down' arrow gently with his quill, the words moved up the page, as if on a computer, until a whole new set of words were shown, continuing what the other page could not fit.  
  
Harry realised that he could now look over the things that Remus and Sirius had explained to him whenever he wanted to.  
  
It looked like this book was going to surprise him at every turn.  
  
By the time Harry got down to breakfast that morning, he was very much awake, and excitedly anticipating the next morning, when he would be attempting to make his first shape change.  
  
"Morning, early bird," Wendy greeted him. Why was she always the first to notice when he entered the room?  
  
"What time you get up this morning, Harry?" asked Hagrid with a smile.  
  
"Six," said Harry cheerfully.  
  
Everyone around the table winced. "And you're happy about that?" asked Professor Sprout.  
  
"Of course," said Harry. "Best night's sleep I've had for months."  
  
Everyone else looked a little wary, and Hagrid looked livid, but Wendy said quickly, "Was it a good game, Harry."  
  
"Roaring," said Harry dreamily. Suddenly he snapped out of it. "Now you're going to tell me you can dream hop," he accused his teacher.  
  
"Not at all," said Wendy.  
  
"How, then?"  
  
"Do you really want to know?"  
  
"Yes!" said Harry, and several other people who looked astounded.  
  
"All right. Your father always looked that way when he'd been dreaming either about Lily, or Quidditch."  
  
Harry stared at her. Then he smiled. Then he chuckled, and soon the whole room was laughing along with him. The laughter was short lived, however.  
  
As the meagre collection of owls swooped gracefully into the room, the large barn owl circled just outside the window.  
  
When the other owls left, they gave it a wide berth. The envelope dangling from its leg was smoking.  
  
Harry stood up. "You coming in?" he asked the owl. It seemed to regard him scathingly for a few seconds, before entering, circling the room a few times, then dropping the letter onto Harry's head.  
  
Or rather, onto the chair where Harry would have been if he hadn't thrown himself out of the way just in time. The envelope exploded with a loud 'BOOM!'  
  
The high-pitched, evil laughter echoed around the room once more. Harry would have been paying more attention to it, if a strange smell hadn't just entered his nostrils.  
  
He wondered what on earth it could be. He had never smelled it before. His eyes started to sting, and there was a foul taste in his mouth that defiantly wasn't from the sausages.  
  
Everyone else was backing away from the remains of the envelope. Harry however, made his way towards it, ignoring his streaming eyes and suddenly weak limbs. One of the pieces right in front of him was still smoking, as were some others, this one bearing the torn legend, '-ry Potte-'  
  
"Potter!" Called Professor McGonagall. "Get away from there!"  
  
And then he realised. It was the envelope that was producing that smell, and Harry was willing to bet that the smoke now curling around his body and entering his lungs was some kind of poisonous gas.  
  
Without even thinking twice he whipped out his wand and threw up a shield, but his fogged brain couldn't concentrate enough for it to solidify his defence.  
  
Come on, he willed it. Protect me. Come on.  
  
But it wouldn't do it. The transparent, flickering wall of silver let the smoke through in tendrils.  
  
As the shield disappeared, Harry fell to his knees. He couldn't even see the teachers now through the enveloping gas fog.  
  
And then a voice, an echoing, yet awfully familiar voice.  
  
"Not dead yet, Harry Potter? What a shame. What a pity. Don't you worry now. This lovely fog will send you to sleep."  
  
Harry couldn't answer. His throat just refused to function.  
  
"I hate to see a good man wasted, Potter. You should have joined me when you had the chance. Oh, well. It's too late now. You would have made a useful ally. All those people you killed."  
  
Harry managed to choke out, "What?"  
  
"Oh, don't try and deny it Harry. You have to understand this one day, you know. But since this is your last day, I'll try and explain it to you. The world is better off without you Harry. Because of you, an awful lot of people died."  
  
"They died because of you," Harry said, his voice barely audible.  
  
"Oh, no, Harry Potter. Think about it. That boy in the graveyard, your parents, Peter Pettigrew."  
  
"What are you talking about? Peter Pettigrew's alive!"  
  
"Yes. Such a shame. It is a wonderful romance though, isn't it?"  
  
Harry couldn't speak a word. His throat choked, and suddenly he couldn't breath.  
  
"Oh yes," came the low hissing voice of Voldemort, taunting him. "I forgot one. I trust you read about that little girl in the paper. hmm. Darling, her name was. Can't remember the other name. Stupid little name, it was. Anyway. You can add her and her mother to the list Potter."  
  
Harry fought for breath, willing something to come into his lungs.  
  
"Oh yes Harry. You have to understand. You helped me return. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be half as powerful as I am now. Everyone who has died since that day would not have died - without you."  
  
It might have been Harry's imagination, but suddenly it seemed as if the voice was coming from far away all of a sudden. His eyes were clear. His throat unblocked, and he inhaled a whole lungful of air and let it go.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
The smoke was dispersing, and coming towards him out of the mist, was.  
  
"Wendy?"  
  
"Harry! You're all right!"  
  
Harry sat up. He took long deep breaths.  
  
"What happened to that shield, Harry?"  
  
"Too weak. couldn't hold it. too much fog. it was stupid."  
  
"Of course it was stupid!" shrilled Professor McGonagall. "What on earth did you think you were doing?"  
  
"I was looking at the envelope."  
  
"You idiotic boy! That was toxicas fatalis, the mist of death! You're lucky at least two of us knew the counter curse."  
  
Harry looked up as Professor Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick came rushing towards him.  
  
"Are you all right, Harry?" asked the Headmaster.  
  
"I'm fine," said Harry, getting up and brushing himself off. "Honest."  
  
"And what exactly," said Professor McGonagall slowly, as if trying to control herself. Was so fascinating about the container in which this foul device arrived?"  
  
Harry picked up the piece he had been looking at, singed and no longer a threat to anyone.  
  
He passed it to his angry teacher, who took a look, sniffed it, and then held it away from her face.  
  
"What is it?" asked Wendy, who still knelt beside Harry. "What is it, Minerva?"  
  
Professor Sprout looked over her friends shoulder at the words.  
  
'ry Potte'  
  
"That's not ink," said Professor Sprout slowly.  
  
"What is it then, Professor?" asked Hagrid, torn between concern for Harry and curiosity,  
  
Professor McGonagall looked up at him. "It's blood," she said.  
  
"There you are," said Wendy, dumping the armful of books onto the table. "Take them, read them, learn them. They're all so simple you won't even need me."  
  
Harry snorted. He knew for a fact that at least three of those books had to have come from the restricted section in the library.  
  
"Well, simple for you," she said with a genuine smile.  
  
"Why do you have to go?" Harry asked for the third time.  
  
Wendy rolled her eyes and started packing a day bag. "I told you. I have important business at the ministry."  
  
"But how can you? You've been out of the country for fourteen years."  
  
"That's why they want to see me."  
  
"What, to catch up on the news in other parts of the world, you mean? That hardly seems important."  
  
"Sort of."  
  
"That means no."  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"You were thinking it."  
  
Wendy pulled the drawstring tight and looked him straight in the eyes. "Harry. You be careful, right? Pull out that shield as soon as you see danger coming."  
  
"You're only going for the day. What could happen?"  
  
"A lot could happen in twelve hours, Harry. And don't rely on those new curses we've tried either. They could just as easily fail on you as that shield did this morning."  
  
Even without her saying it Harry could tell she was disappointed about that.  
  
"If you must use them, wait until you have time to think about them. And no waiting around. No more accidents, right?"  
  
"All right, all right," said Harry, feeling a little angry that she was treating him like a small child off to play at a friend's house for ten minutes. "Go, have a good time."  
  
As she hurried out of the open doorway, he could have sworn he heard her say "That'll be a bloody novelty," and then she was gone.  
  
Not wanting to go up to the dormitory again, Harry decided that he would read his books down at Hagrid's house.  
  
He hadn't been down there for a while after all, and it made him chuckle at the havoc Hagrid would wreak once he had knowledge of those curses.  
  
He took his time walking through the grounds, trying to find a memory for every distinctive part of the grand Hogwarts gardens.  
  
The lake of course, he'd rather not think about.  
  
There was the old gnarled tree he, Ron and Hermione had sat under to discuss the Philosopher's stone! Heck, that seemed an age away now.  
  
He skirted the Quidditch pitch, as much as he loved it, there were still a couple of resistant hedges hanging around the edge there.  
  
And the Whomping Willow. well he had enough memories there to make up for all the places he'd cheated on so far.  
  
At last he reached Hagrid's cabin. When the friendly giant of a man saw who it was he pulled Harry into a bone crushing hug.  
  
Harry eventually managed to escape inside the house. "Don't you think I'm getting a bit old for that Hagrid?" he remarked airily.  
  
"Never, 'Arry," he said. Harry groaned, and Hagrid laughed.  
  
"Fancy a cuppa? I was just making one."  
  
"Yeah, all right, thanks."  
  
Hagrid busied himself with the teapot and kettle. "Aren' you meant to be in lessons?" he asked Harry as his teenage friend heaved his bag of books onto the table.  
  
"Wendy's gone off. She's at the Ministry."  
  
Hagrid nearly dropped the teapot, but he tried to hide his evident surprise as he poured out two cups of steaming tea.  
  
"Oh? Got trouble, 'as she?"  
  
Harry looked up at him. "No. I don't think so anyway. She just said they wanted to talk to her."  
  
Hagrid shook his head, and placed Harry's cup in front of him with a spoon intact. He stirred his own tea to cool it, seated opposite him, smiling distantly.  
  
"Poor old Ali," he said. "Never gets a moment's peace, she don't."  
  
"Ali?"  
  
Hagrid coughed. "Er. nothin'. Just her old name."  
  
"Her old name?"  
  
"Yeah. Her name at school 'ere. She changed it when she moved out."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Oh, I dunno." Harry could tell he was lying, but decided not to press the matter any further.  
  
"So," said Hagrid. "What you doin' all day?"  
  
"Oh, I don't think I'll go uneducated," said Harry with a grin, showing him the books.  
  
Hagrid whistled. "You readin' all them by tonight?"  
  
"Only the important bits."  
  
They kept at it for about four hours. Harry learned more curses and advanced spells and charms that day than he had ever done in his life.  
  
Of course, he couldn't very well try them out on one of his best friends and teachers, but he somehow managed to learn each and every one off by heart.  
  
Then of course, he got tested on them.  
  
Hagrid opened a random page in one of the books. "Er. the houndicas curse?"  
  
Harry racked his brains. "I know this one."  
  
Hagrid smiled.  
  
"Oh! That's the one where they get set on by rabid dogs!"  
  
"Right! And the incantation?"  
  
"Erm. houndicastras?"  
  
"Ye don't sound as if ye're sure."  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
"Well done."  
  
Hagrid leant back in his chair. "Well Harry, we've been through pretty much every spell in them books. Let's take a break."  
  
Harry shifted in his chair. He could feel a question coming on.  
  
"Harry. over the summer. when you was in that fight with your cousin."  
  
Harry looked up, surprised. With everything else that had been going on, he'd clean forgotten about the Dursleys.  
  
"They hurt you before that, din' they? Your aunt and uncle?"  
  
Harry sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."  
  
Hagrid suddenly reached over and grabbed his arm, and he nearly yelled in shock.  
  
The huge man stroked the area where the break had been gently. "I know ye don't want to, Harry. But you will have to, one day. You can't keep it inside ye."  
  
"Oh yes I can."  
  
"Harry."  
  
"What?" He was angry now. It was no one else's business! Why couldn't they just leave him alone?  
  
"I knew someone a lot like you when he was your age. He was same year as your father. He was in the same place you are once, Harry."  
  
That rang a bell for some reason. Had someone already mentioned it?  
  
"He tried to keep it locked away. Then when he couldn't keep it in anymore, he told your father. Your father told me, and I told Madam Pomfrey."  
  
Harry stared into his lap. Then he said, "Wasn't he angry that you'd all nosed into his private life?"  
  
When he dared to look up, Hagrid's eyes were full of hurt.  
  
"I'm sorry," said Harry.  
  
"You got a lot on your mind. Just remember there are people who care about you and want the best for you."  
  
"Ok." Harry sighed. "Can we talk about something else?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
There was silence for a minute. Then Harry remembered something.  
  
"Hagrid, didn't you say you were doing something over the summer with Madame Maxime."  
  
"Ah. Tha's all done now."  
  
"But what was it?"  
  
"I can' tell you that!"  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, and they resorted, as usual, to talking about Quidditch.  
  
When he left the cabin later that evening, the huge pile of books back in the bag slung across his shoulder, he thought back over the amount of times Hagrid had avoided his eyes during those conversations, about Professor Little, the boy in his father's year, and Hagrid's job over the summer.  
  
The Boy Who Lived, Harry thought bitterly. More like, The Boy Who Lived Four Times But Still Never Gets Things Explained To Him.  
  
  
  
The Returno Maximus.  
  
This is perhaps the most advanced form of summoning or recall in existence. For this charm, you need not know what you are looking for, where to search for it, or how far away it is.  
  
The charm is 'returno maxmus!' and needs ten times exactly the amount of power behind it more than a simple Accio charm.  
  
  
  
Harry looked at that passage for a while.  
  
"You appear to have been staring at that page for a while now," said Sleeve, who had regained his favourite position by the fire once more. "Is it not customary among humans to turn the page, and read what is on the other side?"  
  
"Yeah. I was just wondering if this would get me the Marauder's Map back."  
  
"The."  
  
"Marauder's map. My Dad and his friends made it when they were in school."  
  
"How fascinating."  
  
"But I don't know what happened to it at the end of last year. I lent it to a Death Eater by mistake."  
  
"One thinks that this particular action might not have been wise."  
  
It took Harry a while to realise that this was Sleeve's idea of a joke.  
  
"You could be right there. Only thing is, it's really valuable and dangerous if any other Death Eaters get their hands on it."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"Plus, Sirius will kill me when I tell him I've lost it."  
  
"Hmm. One thinks that perhaps, instead of sitting there talking and debating with yourself, you should try it out to see if it works."  
  
Harry laughed.  
  
"Now why didn't I think of that?"  
  
"Because you are a human. When it all comes down to it, Snakes are quite a lot smarter than humans."  
  
"Does that make me stupid?"  
  
"Not at all. You are part snake yourself, so you are nearly as clever as I am, especially as I am only a very young one still."  
  
Harry decided not to argue with Sleeve at the sudden dismissal of his species.  
  
"All right."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So what?"  
  
"Are you going to persist in your debating or will you try the spell?"  
  
"Oh. Right."  
  
Harry stood up. This was risky. If whoever had the map now had a tracking devise on it, he'd be swamped by either Ministry Members or Death Eaters before the night was out.  
  
"Returno Maximus Marauder's Map!"  
  
Nothing happened for about a minute. But then, Harry reasoned, it might have a long way to go.  
  
And then it came, soaring through the evening sky like a very thin, papery owl. Harry caught it with a leap of the heart. He had done it. First time, and he had completed the most complicated form of summoning charm in the world.  
  
Somehow he resisted the urge to whoop with exhilaration, and whispered to the map, "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."  
  
He hadn't really expected it to work without his wand, but it did. The lines and labels spread across the old piece of Parchment.  
  
He glanced at his own name. Then he checked on all the Professors, who were all in their offices, except.  
  
What had Hagrid said? Her old name. She changed it before she moved out.  
  
There, on the fifth floor, in the Defence against the dark arts classroom, was a dot and a label bearing the legend:  
  
Alula Little.  
  
  
  
Oh hell. Where was he now? This was unusual, mostly due to the fact that he couldn't see any immediate danger from Death Eaters. It looked about midnight, and there was a Muggle Postman. Now that was strange. He was cycling up the road. .  
  
Norman cycled ferociously up the road towards his home in the dark. The sooner he got back, the sooner he would be tucking into a nice meal of Shepard's pie.  
  
As he turned a corner, he could have sworn he had seen a figure dressed all in black disappear into the shadows.  
  
Curious, but not wanting to intrude, Norman made his way cautiously up the side alley where he had seen the figure disappear to.  
  
He could at least five figures up ahead, creeping stealthily up the back alley and onto the path that led only up the hill where Mr. Anderson lived. The one in front was tall, half as tall again as the others that trailed along behind his confident stride.  
  
Unable to satisfy his curiosity, Norman got off his bike and left it leaning against the gate of a nearby house.  
  
There was a very still air for some reason, end of August that it was. Norman followed the figures at a steady pace, knowing he was stalking but these men looked as though their aims were not correct. Norman would have to correct them if he was right.  
  
May God have mercy upon you if you are out to cause trouble, thought the young postman.  
  
Eventually they reached the bottom of Mr. Anderson's hill. But instead of turning away from the path, as Norman had expected, they continued on it, marching sedately up the winding road between neat rows of shrubbery.  
  
Norman might well of imagined it, but he could have sworn he had seen one of those bushes fly out of the figure's way at one point.  
  
They seemed to be seeing the way by sticks touched at one end with fire. Odd.  
  
Suddenly, for no reason at all, Norman was gripped with an icy fear. He felt as if he could not move left nor fight for fear of being noticed by the figures in black.  
  
He was about to turn and run when the large part of him that loved God above all else stepped in.  
  
Are you just going to stand by and let these creatures do the devil's work?  
  
Norman bravely stood his ground. Then, after a moment's thought, he moved around to the opposite side of the hill and began to climb.  
  
  
  
William had just packed away his potion ingredients for the night, when he heard a loud knocking on his back door.  
  
Cautious, and with his wand up his sleeve, he went into the scullery. Who could be calling at this time of night?  
  
He had the surprise of the decade when he opened the door. It was Norman, the Muggle policeman.  
  
Norman opened his mouth to say something, then broke off. William followed his gaze down to the stick of knarled wood he was holding like a weapon in his hand.  
  
"Good evening Mr. Anderson," began Norman, still staring at William's wand, which he had lowered.  
  
"Don't you mean good morning?" asked the old potion maker.  
  
The postman actually blushed. "I didn't mean to intrude," he said. "But I thought I ought to let you know."  
  
He trailed off, as if unsure of how to phrase his words.  
  
"Let me know what?" said Mr. Anderson, starting to feel a little annoyed at being caught in his nightshirt, even if it was midnight.  
  
At that moment there was an enormous explosion as (although neither of them realised it at the time) the front door was blown off its hinges.  
  
"Erm. about that," continued Norman, turning pale. "Old friends of yours, s.sir?"  
  
It was in that next second that William Anderson felt something he had never thought he would ever feel again. Fear.  
  
He spun around. Nothing yet. It might take them a few minutes to find him.  
  
He knew that he, on his old legs with a wand that hadn't been used in duels for twenty years, didn't stand a chance. But Norman, for the moment at least, did.  
  
"Run," he said, softly.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Run!"  
  
"Should I fetch the police?"  
  
"Curse it man, there isn't time! Just RUN!" And he slammed the door in the terrified Muggle's face. Silently William prayed that he would make it to safety. At least he would have done something right with his life in helping him.  
  
Harry stood in the middle of the scullery, watching as the wizard man closed the door on the Muggle.  
  
He had followed that postman all the way up from the bottom of the hill, but he wasn't in the least bit out of breath.  
  
He studied the face of the old Wizard, contorted with suppressed fear and sadness.  
  
He knew without thinking that the man was going to die.  
  
They were getting closer now, he could hear their footsteps.  
  
Why doesn't he just run? Said one half of Harry's brain.  
  
Because he would never make it, said the other half.  
  
At that point, the old man seemed to regain himself. He raised his wand and walked, straight through Harry, into the kitchen. Harry, without wanting to, followed him. They were there, waiting for him, but facing the opposite wall.  
  
There were not as many as usual. Only five including the Dark Lord himself.  
  
But then, Harry realised bitterly, Voldemort doesn't need an army to defeat this old, defenceless wizard. Heck, he doesn't need anyone!  
  
So is he doing it because he wants to show off to his followers how good he is, or because he's not taking any more chances? He went to my parents' house alone, and look what happened to him that time.  
  
But there was no chance of this guy reflecting the killing curse. If Crucio didn't kill him first.  
  
"Good morning," said the old man, in a strangely calm voice.  
  
Now that the moment had come, William was no longer afraid. The Death Eaters all spun around as one, and with a chill that ran down his spine, Mr. Anderson found himself looking into the eyes of the most feared Dark Wizard for a thousand years. Lord Voldemort.  
  
He stood his ground.  
  
"Ah," Lord Voldemort hissed. "William James Yuri Andrew Samuel Anderson, I presume?"  
  
William frowned, and the Dark Lord hissed with laughter. "What a mouthful."  
  
"My friends call me Will."  
  
"How nice for you."  
  
"I don't suppose you know anything about that though, do you?"  
  
"How do you mean?"  
  
"Because you don't have any friends."  
  
Voldemort laughed again, more forcefully and cruelly this time. "I have no need of friends, Mr. Anderson. But I have even less need of enemies. You have interfered for too long. It is time for you to die."  
  
"I know that," said William as though it was obvious. His insides had disappeared, and he seemed to have lost control of his senses. Was he enjoying this?  
  
"It's been creeping up on me for a while now. Tiresome thing, old age. You're right, it is time. I don't suppose you'd like to do the honour of finishing the job off for me, would you?"  
  
Lord Voldemort stared at him. "You are a fool, William Anderson."  
  
"Look, will you just get on with it? What kind of a Dark Lord plays with their food before they eat it?"  
  
"The best kind. Crucio."  
  
Harry had known it was going to hurt, ever since the first sarcastic remark. The more they fought, the more it hurt, that seemed to be the rule. But the rules didn't say how they had to fight.  
  
His scar exploded with pain the second the curse hit. He could barely see the old man writhing on the floor in agony through the mist of his own pain. It had begun.  
  
Norman would not run. No. The Lord, it seemed, had given him this task, and he would accomplish it. They didn't call him 'The Thirteenth disciple of Christ' for nothing.  
  
He made his way carefully around to the front door, which was blown off its hinges and reduced to splinters. He waded his way through the mess.  
  
He could hear voices from up ahead, in the direction of the back door. One of them was a soft, hissing voice, the other was unmistakeably Mr. Anderson's.  
  
The parlour was wrecked. So was the hallway. It was clear that these black figures were not here for tea and biscuits.  
  
At last he reached a solid oak door, flung wide open. He didn't dare step around it, but stood behind it, listening to the continuing conversation inside. The words he heard dripped with malice.  
  
"The best kind. Crucio."  
  
And then, to Norman's utter horror, the air was suddenly filled with screams. Screams of pain and agony. They were Mr. Anderson's screams. And... something else. it sounded like a boy. A teenage boy whose voice had not yet broken. But why?  
  
The screaming stopped, almost abruptly, and the young postman heard the sound of someone getting to their feet. Two someone's.  
  
Then a voice, and it was defiantly not Mr. Anderson.  
  
"Have you had enough? Would you prefer me to finish it now?"  
  
"I said that at the beginning, didn't I? Goodness me, young people never listen any more, do they?"  
  
"I would hardly refer to myself as 'young' Mr. Anderson. Young means foolish."  
  
"Too true. Ah, I remember the days when you yourself were young and foolish. Not a shred of mercy. You let your men die by their hundreds simply by drinking things left for them to find. Extremely sensible of you I must say. Made things a hell of a lot easier for me."  
  
"You know that I would not be here if you had not killed all those men before your potions lost their sting."  
  
"I do. But you'd only be after some other bugger who got saddled with the job. Best that it's me, really."  
  
"Are you sure? Crucio!"  
  
Norman felt the pressure build up his ears as two sets of piercing screams filled them. He could not stand this any longer. Something had to be done.  
  
I expect it's a record, thought Harry as he fell to his knees. No one's lasted as long as this guy so far, and he's by far the eldest.  
  
His throat was sore from screaming. But he'd been hit with this curse (through other people and directly) so often that it gave him a sort of immunity to it. It didn't hurt so much, and his brain was somehow able to function through his body's unpredictable actions.  
  
The curse faded. But as the last remnants of it were still dying away, someone else entered the room. Harry stood up.  
  
It was that Muggle postman. "Stop!" yelled the man. "In the name of Christ, stop!"  
  
And then he froze and stared, unmistakably, at Harry.  
  
Harry stared back at him. So did everyone else. Then Voldemort made a motion with his hand, "Goyle."  
  
The burly Death Eater marched up to the Muggle postman. He didn't even bother with a wand. He grabbed a heavy wood chair from the table and cracked it over Norman's head. The result was that he cracked his skull.  
  
Harry rushed over to him, going through Goyle as he did. He knelt down beside the dying man.  
  
Norman gazed straight into the boy's green eyes. What was he doing here? His eyes were filled with tears as he whispered, "I'm sorry."  
  
The outlines of things were fuzzy all of a sudden. "You are forgiven," whispered Norman. He didn't know what the boy had done to be sorry for, only that there was no evil in him.  
  
And with those words, the Thirteenth Disciple of Christ, died.  
  
"Norman!" yelled Mr. Anderson.  
  
"Tut tut.," said Lord Voldemort. "Getting Muggles to fight your battles now, are you? No Muggle is going to save you now."  
  
William threw aside his wand. He could no longer use it, he lay on the ground like a sheep prepared for butchering.  
  
"you're just a monster, aren't you?" he said. "You're a bloody monster. May you burn in hell."  
  
"I do not ever intend to die, Mr. Anderson. Goodbye. Avada Kadavra!"  
  
There was the familiar flash of green light, he looked up, and Harry-  
  
Was back in bed. It took him a few seconds to realise that throughout the whole interview, Voldemort had not used his wand.  
  
**Tell you what, would you be really mad if I didn't post a thanks for this chapter? It's 24 pages long already and I want to go to bed and I bet you want to read it as soon as possible. So there you have it. Please Review! I need the moral support. ** 


	8. A rather morphed first attempt, and anot...

**Heck. It's New Year's Eve. I have done no prep. Yikes. 

Random note, I hope that you are able to follow the 'blue book' scenes. You can't really tell who is writing at one time unless I tell you. But I'm sure you can work them out. The trick is to read them very slowly.

He, he, some of you are getting very frustrated! I love writing something with loads of mystery, as long as I know how to solve them. (This is actually one of the few occasions when I do.) There are so many questions to answer and don't worry, they will be!! **

Harry gave up trying to sleep after a while. It was three o'clock in the morning, but he was wide-awake, his mind full of images of the old wizard and the Muggle Postman. 

The Postman had seen him.

He had heard his voice. 

But how was that possible? Harry was not actually there in the dreams, at least, he hoped he wasn't. 

Was it because the man was a Muggle? He couldn't remember ever having seen a Muggle in his visions before. They had all been wizards, because most of them had had wands, and those that didn't obviously recognized the Dark Lord. 

If Muggles could see him… it was a terrifying prospect.  Voldemort would be bound to go after them, sooner or later.

He could get thousands killed that way. They would be caught off guard by seeing him and not even get a chance to run before the fatal curse hit them. 

And what if one of them, in their fright before they died, happened to mention to Voldemort that there was a black haired boy in glasses standing just there…

It didn't really bear thinking about.

The only other alternative explanation Harry could think of was that his dream had been just that, a dream. Not a vision… only the events in his normal dreams about Voldemort usually had happened before…

Harry decided not to think about it unless the problem came up again. He picked up the blue book, which now lay beside his four-poster. 

Trying not to disturb Sleeve, who was seated at the end of the bed, he sat cross-legged beneath the duvet with his back against the headboard. 

Flicking through the pages, he found August 27th, wrote his name in the gap and read through everything he, Remus and Sirius had talked about over the last two days. 

It was heavy revision, but most of it had stuck in his brain anyway, so it wasn't hard. The thought that dried his throat was that there was to be no more. Today he started trying to turn himself into an animal. 

As it neared four o'clock, Harry had finished reading. With shaking fingers he got his quill and ink out of the drawer of his bedside table. 

He closed the book, and opened it again at the very first page. 

'Harry Potter.'

There was a pause. 

'Harry? Is that you?' said the book's default.

'Yes.'

'Gees, aren't you going a bit to the other extreme?'

'Eh?'

'It's early.'

'Not a morning person, then?'

'That's the understatement of the century.'

'Thanks Remus, for your friendly worthwhile morning greeting.'

'You're welcome.'

'Get a life.'

'Morning Harry.'

'Morning Remus.'

'Are you ready?'

'I hope so.'

'You'll do fine.' It was Sirius this time. 'Just relax, and try and remember everything we've told you.'

'I've been looking over it.'

'Good. You'll need all of it.' That was Remus' neat writing.

Harry suddenly felt an urge to go through everything a dozen times more. 

'First step is to stand somewhere where you've got lots of space. You don't know how big you're going to be.' That was Sirius' sound advice.

'Right.' Harry got out of bed and stood in the middle of the room, shivering in his pyjamas, the book still in his hand. 

He wondered whether he ought to warn Sleeve. He didn't want to get eaten by his friend if he turned into a mouse or something.

Then he remembered that the transformation wouldn't happen fully the first time. The best he could hope for was a couple of feathers or a patch of fur. 

He decided not to disturb the snake. Harry had discovered, after a fashion, that his scaly friend was not a morning person either. Or rather, a morning snake. 

'Now, take a deep breath, shut your eyes and close everything out. Think the words in your head and try and come out of your body.'

'I don't know if I can do this, Sirius.' 

'Sure you can. Write back when you're back in your own form.'

Harry put the book down on the floor. He closed his eyes and tried to think of nothing.

It was very difficult. Thoughts kept running through his mind, such as the cold, the fear, and the danger of what he was about to do. 

After a while he began to relax, however. His mind eventually became blank as he shut out the sounds of the world around him. 

He knew what he had to do next. He still kept other thoughts out, but let just one drift in.

Transforma Animagi… Transforma Animagi…. Transforma Animagi….

Without meaning to, Harry found his essence, the part that made him Harry, and pulled it out of his body.

It didn't happen perfectly, Harry was the first to admit. He got stuck halfway out. When he opened his eyes, there was black hair covering his hands and lower arms. His fingernails had sharpened and curled slightly to form claws. 

For a moment, Harry could do nothing but stare at his hands. What was he? They looked like… cat's paws. But they could just as easily be bear's paws. 

'Harry? Harry? You done yet?' 

Harry was shaken out of his daze. Now what? 

He had to put himself back together. Frantically he tried to remember how. But his mind was blank.

'Are you all right, Harry?'

Harry stared helplessly at the book. He tried to grab the quill and ink but he dropped the bottle and it smashed. He tried to swear but all that came out was a series of growls. 

Apart from anything else, Harry could only be glad that no one was there to watch him. He picked up the quill with his teeth… and great difficulty. 

He dipped the quill in the black mess on the floor, which was soaking rather quickly into the carpet and somehow managed to scratch out in huge, wonky letters,

'NO'

'Ah. I take it you're still in your animagus form?'

Harry drew a long, impatient line across the page. 

'Right. The words are 'Reverso Animagi'. Just do it the same as before, but imagine yourself back in your own form.'

Sure. Harry thought. Sure, you can say that. Like you've ever tried this.

'Just relax, Harry.' That was Sirius. Now there was something he could use.

He closed his eyes. He tried to shut everything out, but there still remained that blind panic that he would be stuck that way forever. 

Gradually, painfully gradually, the fear subsided, and Harry was left with just one thought.

'Reverso Animagi, Reverso Animagi, _Reverso Animagi!_'

When Harry opened his eyes, his hands were back to normal, and his name kept flashing anxiously across the surface of the blue book's pages. 

'Harry? Harry? Where are you?'

Harry glanced at the blackened carpet, decided there was nothing he could do about that now, grabbed his quill and pulled a new pot of ink from his trunk. He certainly couldn't afford to break another. 

'I'm here!'

'Harry! You Ok?'

'Sure, Sirius.'

'What was it like?' asked Remus. 

'That was the scariest thing I've ever done in my life.'

'Tell me about it,' said Sirius. 

'The changing back was the worst part. My mind went blank.'

'That was your animal, Harry. You'll get used to that in time, and you'll be able to stop it taking over. Soon you'll do it much faster, and without the words, but you have to master the form first'…

'What _was _your form, Harry,' Sirius interrupted. 

'I don't know. I had black paws and a growl, but that was it.'

'Did you look in a mirror?'

'No.'

'Do that next time. It'll give you a closer idea of what you are. You might have had whiskers or something without knowing.'

'I'm pretty sure I would have noticed something like that, Sirius.'

'True.'

'Harry, I hope you're not another Sirius.'

'Why would you think that?'

'Oh, I don't know… black paws and a growl…. ringing any bells?'

'But they weren't dog paws - I think. They were more like cat paws.'

'With a growl?'

'Good point.'

'Harry?'

'Yes?'

'Are you feeling confident about this?' 

'No actually.'

'Good.'

'Sorry?'

'I don't want you trying this by yourself, understand?'

Harry chuckled. 'No fear, Remus.'

'I hope not.'

'We'll hear from you tomorrow, Harry.'

'And don't groan,' said Sirius, just as Harry did. 

Then they were gone. 

The transformations had taken so long, without Harry realising, that it was now almost seven. No wonder his friends had been worried. 

Harry almost fell over trying to pull on his almost perfect fitting clothes. He was used to them just falling over his head and past his knees. 

He was glad that no one turned up before he could make his way downstairs. Far from him really not wanting to get caught with sweat still running in drives down his face, but he really did _not _want someone to catch him alone with the huge black patch in the carpet before the house elves came and cleaned it up. 

No one ever got news of student's messes from the house elves. It was an unwritten law. 

He was, of course, last into the Great Hall for breakfast. They all looked up as he arrived. 

As he sat down amid the uncomfortable chatter, he heard Professor McGonagall whisper to Professor Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, do you really think it's safe for Harry in here? After yesterday?"

"Are you suggesting we ban him from breakfast in the Great Hall, Minerva? Whatever dangers those envelopes conceal will not be a danger only to Harry, once school starts. There is no point."

Harry was about to add, 'And I can take care of myself,' before he realised that it wasn't true and would only show he'd been eavesdropping.

Instead, he looked up at Wendy, who he reminded at the last minute, wasn't really Wendy, but someone called Alula. 

There was no emotion on her face as she spooned egg onto her plate. 

"How was yesterday?" Harry asked her. 

Wendy jumped. "What? Oh, fine." She had gone a little red in the face. "And you? Did you get much done?"

"Loads," said Harry with a smile. 

"Try anything out?"

"Only one. Were they happy to see you at the Ministry?"

Wendy laughed nervously. "As happy as can be expected, Harry. What did you try out?"

"The Returno Maximus. Why didn't you expect them to be happy?"

Wendy stopped eating. "You never give up, do you?"

"Never."

Suddenly Wendy blanched. "The _Returno Maximus? _And it worked?"

"Yes."

Wendy shook her head vigorously. "We'll talk about that later."

"All right. So tell me what-"

"Harry, take a hint Ok? Shut up."

Harry shrugged. "I was only asking."

"Some questions are better left unanswered."

"Amen," said half the teachers around the table, just as the post arrived. 

Harry prepared to duck under the table, but the brown barn owl did not turn up. Instead…

"Madeline!" Harry leapt up and caught the letter. When he sat down again, Professor McGonagall was undoing the string around the _Daily Prophet_. 

Harry held his breath. Please, please, please…

The elderly witch looked at the front page. Her eyes widened and filled with tears. Professor Dumbledore gently took the newspaper from her shaking hands. 

He looked at it too, and sighed deeply. Then he slumped back in his chair, looking older than ever. 

They all waited with baited breath. Then Dumbledore leant forward slightly.

"I am afraid-" he started.

"Don't say it!" Harry couldn't stand it. He knew what Dumbledore was going to say, and he didn't want to hear it, didn't want to hear the name.

"Harry?"

"Just don't say it," said Harry, clambering out of his seat. "Just… wait till I'm gone, or I'll be sick again."

"Again?" started Professor McGonagall

Professor Dumbledore held up a hand. "Harry, do you know something about this?"

Harry stared him full in the eyes, wishing he could just leave.

"If it's about a old Wizard and a Muggle postman, then yes, I know." 

"You know."

"Yes. _Please _can I go?"

"Harry, listen. This is very important."

Harry groaned. He was in for an interrogation. He slid back into the chair. 

"Did you see this in a dream?"

"Professor-"

Dumbledore's eyes flashed.

"Yes, sir."

"Last night?"

"Yes, sir."

"Has this ever happened before?"

"_Yes._"

There was a pause. Harry choked a little. "Rainbow… and her mum… and then… well, I don't know what any of the others were called."

He was very, very conscious of everyone watching him. 

"Has this been happening all summer?"

"I guess so."

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you, Harry. Now you may go."

"I'll see you later, Harry," said Wendy quietly. 

Harry practically fled. As soon as he was in the entrance hall he stopped and leant heavily against the wall. Next time he saw Tom Riddle, he was going to chuck an extra curse at him just for that little incident.

Would you rather freeze to death…?

And in all the excitement, he'd forgotten all about the pocketed letter from Hermione.

*******************************************************************************************

"A piece of parchment."

"Yes. I was wondering where it was, is all."

"So you tried Returno Maximus on it?"

"Yes." Why did everyone keep asking stupid questions?

Wendy looked as though she wanted to do the truth test on his head again, but it seemed to be against her better judgement after all.

"So you knew what it was?"

"Of course I knew."

"Wouldn't a Returno Minimus have been easier?"

"A… what, sorry?"

Wendy sighed. "I thought you had read the whole book?"

"So did I."

"There are three types of summoning charm. The Accio is easiest because to perform it you need to know what you are looking for and where it is within a three foot radius."

"Right."

"The Returno Maximus is the hardest. You shouldn't have been able to perform it properly, but I think I've given up trying to predict what you can and can't do."

Harry grinned.

"For it, you don't need to know what you're looking for."

"But why would you need a charm for something you don't even know what it is?"

"Well, say you entered the enemy's headquarters, right, and you were looking for a clue to show you what the Death Eater's are up to, you do the charm, and hey presto, one shows up. You don't know what it is or where it's coming from, or how far away it is from you, but you find it anyway."

Harry looked at her shrewdly. She'd thought of that very quickly.

She smiled at him, as if guessing his thoughts.

"I had to do it a couple of times."

Harry gaped, and Wendy giggled.

"So the Returno… the other thing?"

"The Returno Minimus. It's half way between. You know what it is but not where, or you know where but not what. Though it's usually the former."

That made Harry's head spin and he groaned. "Must you complicate things?"

"Always," said his young teacher. 

In the next few hours, Harry relearned all his elementary spells and charms in different stages, until he could levitate himself, light all the candles and change the colour of Wendy's eyes, all without words, and without his wand. 

When they were done, Wendy looked in the mirror for the hundredth time and giggled. 

"I don't see why it's funny."

"I do. All you have to do is give me red hair and I'll be your mum."

She tossed her own, long black locks, which Harry decided were defiantly left as they were. Her new, bright green eyes flashed. She could have passed for Harry's mother as she was anyway, with eyes like that.

"Should I change them back?"

She sighed. "Yes, I suppose you ought to. Mind, it was nice while it lasted."

Harry concentrated on Wendy's eyes. He imagined them back to that sparkling blue and let the magic go. They changed colour immediately. 

Damn! It had been there for a split second. But then it was gone. 

Wendy sighed again, and hopped off the desk to put the mirror away. 

_"Why are you so tense, master?"_

_"Because this is impossible!"_

_"Nothing is impossible."_

_"This is."_

_"If you say so, Master."_

Harry sighed, and chewed the end of his quill again. He wished very much he had a sugar one. He thought there might have been one in that box the Weasley twins had sent him, but he knew better than to be a test subject for one of Fred and George's concoctions right when he was trying to concentrate.

After much humming and ha-ing, Harry had decided to grit his teeth, and finally do some homework. He cursed the Dursleys for the umpteenth time for locking away his school things. 

Now, he sat in the library, trying desperately to find some order in the chaos he had created. 

Most of it wasn't too bad. His completed Charms essay, only two foot long and with the ink still drying, had simply been done on the three types of summoning charm, 'Pick a Subject that Interests You And Explain In Detail.'

His Transfiguration prep had been a cinch, considering he'd been thinking about almost nothing else since he'd found out how the blue book worked. 

No, the main problem lay simply in Divination… and Potions. 

No matter how good he got at Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and Charms, he was always going to suck at those two.  

_"Why did she have to go and set us homework?"_

_"You learn quicker."_

_"Since when did you know all about homework?"_

_"Since you explained it to me."_

_"Oh, right."_

_"If it is any comfort, Master, the strange signs on your paper mean nothing to me either."_

_"Not a lot of help."_

_"What is it anyway Master?"_

_"A star chart. It's to see the future. Ha. Fat chance I have of ever sorting anything out of this mess." _He threw the chart aside in irritation. 

He could have sworn he'd heard a gasp just then, but he couldn't see anyone, so he picked up his potions essay for the fifth time and began to swear in Parseltongue – again.

Someone gave a little gasp of laughter. "Oh, look, he's given up."

"I don't blame him," said someone else, dryly.

"Oh, come on Minerva," said a new voice completely. "She isn't that bad. Besides, I wouldn't speak too soon. I don't see his Transfiguration anywhere, do you?"

"It's in his bag," said the first voice.

"Wendy, how long have you been here, exactly?"

"Only about half an hour."

"Aren't you uncomfortable? My back's getting stiff already, and these books keep digging into my legs."

"Blame it on your age, Professor."

"Impudent young rip."

Wendy had in fact, been hiding behind the bookcases for almost a whole hour, watching her young student's valiant efforts to finish the whole summer's work in one afternoon.

Professor's McGonagall and Sprout had only just now joined her.

"I can't help it, Professor. It's so fascinating. I didn't think it was possible for someone's tongue to do all those things."

"It isn't. Not for a normal person, anyway."

"Yeah, well. Harry's special."

"Not in the best of ways."

"Of course."

There was a little pause, as they watched Harry get up and fetch a different potions book, preferably one that would be of any help. 

"It's all right, you know," said Wendy then. "You don't have to be nice to me, just because Professor Dumbledore asked you to."

The other two looked at her gravely. "What makes you think he did, Alula?"

"Don't call me that! Well, when I first got here you wouldn't even speak to me. And then this morning, you-"

"Realised we'd all been stupid," said Professor Sprout, with a frown. "Alula, no one here thinks you had anything to do with it."

"That's what the Ministry said, but I could tell they thought I was some kind of mini Death Eater or something. And don't call me Alula."

"We know you aren't. Why don't you just accept the fact that someone here trusts you for who you are, not who you are related to. You have a home here, Alula."

Wendy was so surprised at this little speech of Professor McGonagall's that she forgot to be mad about the use of her real name.

It was dark before Harry was finished. He hoped Madam Pomfrey wouldn't find out that he'd missed dinner. 

_"I told you that it was possible."_

_"You were still wrong. I copied the potions, which he's sure to notice, knowing Snape, and I made up all of the Divination, which she won't notice, but I still know I cheated and it won't get me past my exams."_

_"How did you get past them last year?"_

_"I didn't' take them."_

_"Then do that this year."_

Harry shuddered. _"I think I'd rather have done the exams."_

_"Oh?"_

_"Never mind. Let's go up."_

** At last! It's only taken, what? Six days? Anyway, thanks a lot for reviews and stuff. You all rock. I know a few of you must have hated that seemingly useless and pointless bit at the end, but I had to put it in. Sorry. 

Here be thanks: (for both chapters):

Shdurrani

SarahSnape

Skahducky

Fizzysoda

AllAboutMe

Kim

Bumblebee Bucy

Summersun

Iniysa

Lucerito-del-alba

Leaf

Siri Kat's cousin

Tima

Windswift

Kit petitedra

Mysia

Hypfan

Chibi

Autumn dreams

Shadow

Hyperwriter

Not telling

Kay

Bumblebee: yes, everyone tells me that. Don't hit your head when you fall off that 

chair, will you?

August wynd: you have scary friends. Sorry about your sanity. Do you know, you 

are the only one who has picked up on a certain something.

Potter-Pikachu: Hi Sirius!!! Oh yeah, and you too P/P. Should be a real fighting 

scene in a couple of chapters, I hope. 

Evil Snapple Pie: Hello! Oh yeah, that little thing… well, it's a long story, and 

you're reading it, so good luck spotting it until I unveil that mystery. Angela Darling probably sounds familiar because in Peter Pan, Wendy's full name is Wendy Moira Angela Darling. Sorry if you already knew but with reviews it is hard to tell when someone is being sarcastic or not. There are a couple of Peter pan references in this story. Yes, Wendy was in the same year as Harry's parents and no I am not settling for the norm when Harry's animagi is concerned. You have one hell of a long holiday. Will you post something already!

Gigabear: Yes, I did mean that, but I wasn't going to be _that _obvious about it!

Xia Sarrasri: hello! Here you are anyway. Luv U! 

Whew. That was fun. Now please let my computer post this chapter, please… **


	9. A worse second attempt and a mystery exp...

**Oh dear. School started the day after I posted the last chapter. Grrr. 

I am glad that most of you seemed to like it and are eager for me to explain all the little puzzles I have created… (Muahahahahah!) 

Well, guess what, today you get to discover the answer to one of the biggest mysteries, though some of you have guessed it already… you're not as stupid as I thought… j/k!

Now, now, no scrolling straight down to the end! 

Anyway, as I said, school + mega prep + life = big problem! I will try and make time to write, I can't stand people who update like once a term… Grrr…. Oh for the days when I used to update every day…!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter already!!!  On with the fic! **

Harry woke up early, as usual, and ran over the match in his mind. He wished he could remember more about it. He sure could remember every detail in his _other _dreams. 

He pushed back his covers, earning a hiss from the pile of black coils at the end of the bed.

_"It is not even light," _Sleeve hissed.

_"I don't like the light," _Harry lied.

_"Sure."_

Harry laughed softly. 

The blue book was still in the middle of the black patch on the carpet – he'd been too tired the night before to clear it up. 

He pulled out his wand and whispered "Reparo!" the shards of glass from the inkbottle pulled themselves back together into a useable container, but the ink remained soaked into the carpet.

Harry frowned at it. He didn't know how far the unwritten law of the House Elves would go. He gritted his teeth, put his wand back on the bed and touched the ink with a forefinger. 

"Reparmaxi!" He hissed, putting more force behind it. The blackness faded a little, but remained highly visible.

Harry sighed. He'd have to worry about that later. 

He knelt on the floor, picked up the book and wrote his name in green ink to save the black. Red was what he had most of, but he doubted Sirius would be able to see it. 

'That you, Harry?'

'No, idiot, it's Morgana.'

'What a shame. I've always wanted to meet her.'

'Well now you have. Where's Remus?'

'He's not coming.'

'What?'

'He's busy.'

'But'-

'I wouldn't worry. You'd be in more danger if it were just him. You ready?'

'I guess.'

'Be sure.'

'Ok. I'm sure.'

'Go ahead. Don't let it take you over, and remember how to get back.'

'Right. Just – give me some time. It takes a while.'

Harry sat back on the floor. He closed his eyes, and tried to think of nothing. It was slightly easier now that he had none it twice and had the feeling of what he had to do. But only slightly easier. 

Transforma Animagi! … Transforma Animagi!

He could almost feel the change, it was happening so slowly. He felt his nightshirt ripple as something grew on his back, and his fingernails lengthening as if they were being stretched. 

Yet it didn't hurt as it had when he had taken the Polyjuice Potion. It was almost… a nice feeling. As if it had always been a part of him and he was only now experiencing it.

Had he enjoyed it yesterday? Harry supposed he must have been too terrified to think about whether he liked it or not.

As this uninvited thought drifted into his head, disturbing his concentration of almost-nothingness, the process stopped. 

Harry opened his eyes. And gasped. 

He had talons. Pitch black, bird of prey talons instead of feet.

But that wasn't right! He'd had claws yesterday! He stared at his feet, looking grotesquely small against his normal legs. He leaned forward, and he felt unfamiliar movement underneath his pyjama top.

Hardly daring to imagine what he would find, Harry pulled it off, with some difficulty. He got up and tried to see it in the mirror. He could see well enough.

He had feathers. Black feathers. 

He sat down on the floor again, a little harder than he had meant to. 

'Harry? Harry, are you finished?'

Harry picked up his quill. 'No. But my hands are normal.'

There was a pause. 'So - what isn't normal?'

'I don't know what to tell you.'

'What is it?'

'Sirius, I've got feathers. And talons.'

He didn't reply for almost a minute. 'But you had fur!'

'And claws.' Harry reminded him.

'But that's not possible!'

'I know.'

'Are you sure?'

'Sirius, my feet have come straight off Hedwig. Except they're black.'

'Black? Like your fur was?'

'Yeah. So are the feathers.'

Sirius thought a very rude word indeed, and it showed up on the page. Harry couldn't be sure or not whether that had been an accident. 

'What?'

'Harry, it could be, I didn't think it was possible'-

Harry waited patiently for about two seconds. 

'What, Sirius?"

'Well'-

'Sirius!'

'An animuchos.' 

'A _what?_'

'Harry, I'm not even sure if they exist.'

'But what the hell are they?'

'Language, Potter.'

'Sirius!'

'Look, you'll have to ask Remus about it. He's the one with extensive libraries at his disposal.'

'Just tell me'-

'Harry, I can't. I just don't know, and I don't want to go telling you anything that's not right. Wait for Remus.'

'But that won't be until tomorrow!'

'We'll see.'

'What?'

'You'll find out later. Now, can you change back?'

'Yes.'

'Good.'

'You're not leaving?'

'I have to, Harry. It took you almost fifteen minutes last time, and I have things to do.'

'Time to spring clean your puddle?'

'Don't be pert.'

'Sorry.'

'Goodbye Harry.'

'Bye.'

And he was gone. Harry sighed, and tried to clear his mind without the word 'unfair' springing into his mind. It was very hard work. 

When he was finished, he grabbed a pillow and gave it a good kick, which made him feel slightly better. 

_"What are you doing?" _asked a very sleepy snake. 

_"Kicking a pillow," _Harry replied savagely.  

_"What on earth for?"_

_"Because no one will tell me anything!"_

_"Would you rather they told you too much?"_

_"Just more than this!"_

_"Very well. Then I will tell you something."_

_"What?" _asked Harry eagerly. 

_"You are late for breakfast."_

Harry was indeed very late for breakfast, which was perhaps a good thing. 

"You had this," said Wendy through her hash brown, waving half a burnt envelope. 

'Caroline blew it up," said Professor Sprout, as Harry sat back down. He had heard the other teachers refer to Professor Sinistra as Caroline. 

"'Mazing," said Hagrid. 

"I wish she'd have let me have a go at it though," said Wendy, looking regretful. "Imagine if old what's-his-face got his own curse blown up in his face next time he opened a bill." She giggled a little.

"Now, Wendy," said professor Dumbledore with a smile. "Let's not deprive dear Caroline of her fun. The lady has spirit, let us enjoy it while it lasts."

"Where _is_ Professor Sinistra?" asked Harry to cover the awkward silence that followed. 

"In the hospital wing," said Wendy."

Harry choked on his toast. "She's not hurt, is she?"

"Of course she isn't. She's just really excited that she may have just saved your life, or she would have done if you had been here. She'll be showing off non-existent war wounds for weeks now. I said you should have let me do it."

"Only about a hundred times!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, and everyone laughed, except Harry, who was still trying to dislodge his toast, and Wendy, who was helping him.

"Ow!"

"Oh, you baby. Imagine the headline: Boy Who Lived Killed By Toast."

"But you didn't have to thump me that hard!"

"It wasn't that hard!"

"I think, Wendy, that you often do not realise your own strength," said Professor Dumbledore.

******************************************************************************************

"Right then. You may not realise it, but we're now past all seventh year Charms…"

Harry gaped at her.

"Why so surprised?"

"I've learnt three years of charms in five days?"

"And Defence against the Dark Arts"

"_What?_"

"You didn't let me finish!"

"But…"

"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," said Wendy, doing a very good impression of Professor McGonagall. "We are past all seventh year charms _and _Defence against the Dark Arts, but not Transfiguration. Therefore…"

"You're kidding!"

"No indeed."

Harry sunk his head into his hands. 

"What's up?"

"Don't I get enough Transfiguration in the mornings?" he said, looking up. 

"Sorry?"

Harry was actually on the verge of telling her, when there was a knock on the door and someone very familiar entered the classroom.

"Remus!" 

His old Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher gave him a quick wink, then looked up at Wendy. 

There was a pause, in which Harry studied his old teacher and friend. Did he look younger? It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.  He was looking at his old classmate with nothing short of painful adoration. 

"Ali?"

"Remus?"

Another pause. 

"You look older."

"But you're still as beautiful. How do you do it?"

Wendy giggled. Then she laughed, and threw herself into Remus' arms, burying her head in his shoulder. "I've… missed you so much…"

"I know, I know…" said Remus reassuringly. He hugged her tightly, one hand around her shoulders, the other carefully stroking her long black hair. 

 Harry could see the affection in his eyes before he closed them, small tears of happiness leaking into Wendy's hair. 

Harry wanted to turn away, but it was fascinating. These two friends hadn't seen each other for fourteen years, and the emotion in the room was overpowering.

It was a while before they broke apart, and when they did, Harry realised Wendy was shaking not from joy, but from horrible sadness. 

There were tears running down her cheeks, and as Remus helped her into a chair, the silent crying merged into loud sobs.   

"Oh, Remus! It was so awful. None of them believed me…" she took the handkerchief he offered her and blew her nose. 

She smiled weakly at Harry, who was looking at her with great concern. 

"I'm all right dear… I just… I just…"

"It's Ok, Ali," said Remus, sitting down beside her. 

"Don't call me that," Wendy said, but it was very half-hearted. 

"Should I go?" asked Harry. 

"No," said Wendy quickly. Harry looked at Remus. 

"Just give us a couple of minutes, Harry."

"Sure." Harry went out of the classroom, closed the door and cast an eavesdropping spell with a wave of one hand. If no one was telling him anything, he was going to find out by himself. Hadn't they got that yet?

Besides, it was so unlike Wendy, or rather Alula. She just was the sort of person who never cried. A bit like Harry himself, though he didn't know it. 

He _did _cry sometimes, of course, just not when anyone could see, and no one would expect it of him.

"What was so awful?" Remus was saying kindly. 

"The _Ministry_," Wendy wailed. "They sent for me as soon as I got back. Why can't they leave me alone? Especially now Henry… he…"

"Alula," said Remus gently. "Does Harry know?"

"No! I don't want him to hate me as well, not Lily's son…" She dissolved again into sobs. After a while they faded away again.

"Ali, Harry ought to know the truth. I promise he won't hate you."

By this time, Harry was thoroughly bewildered. But then, he reasoned, it had really been that way from the beginning. 

"You're right," said Wendy. "Of course you're right. But … I can't…"

"I'll tell him."

A pause.

"Would you?"

"Of course. Now dry your eyes, and smile. Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Oh, Remus, of course I am. Sometimes I just wish…" Her voice trailed out as she supposedly wiped her face with the handkerchief. 

"That we could have been married?"

Harry's mouth dropped open.

"Yes. Do you mind that?"

"Not at all. I never stopped loving you."

"Me neither. But I was so lonely…"

"I know, Ali. I don't mind that you married someone else."

"Really?"

"Truly."

"But the only reason I married him was because he reminded me of you."

"That's ridiculous, Alula."

"Don't call me that!"

"Are you that sensitive about it?"

"More."

"All right then. But I think you're being silly."

"_Silly?_"

"Wrong word perhaps." And then quickly, as if worried she might explode, Remus said loudly, "Ok, Harry. Come in."

Harry opened the door. "You Ok?" he asked Wendy. 

"Yes, Harry. I'm fine." Her eyes were still red and a little puffy, but she was smiling. 

Harry looked straight into those eyes for a hint of what might be troubling her, but all he got was that familiar flash of recognition that meant he was sure he had seen this woman somewhere before. 

"Right then," said Remus. "Don't let me disturb your lesson, Professor."

He sat back with a grin on his face. Wendy made a face at Harry. "He just likes to calling me 'Professor'."

Harry smiled at her. 

"So, as I was saying before we were interrupted for the second time," she stuck out her tongue at Remus. "We've done seventh year Charms and Defence against the Dark Arts, and it's time to work on your advanced Transfiguration…"

"Well, that shouldn't be too much trouble," said Remus thoughtfully.

Wendy glared at him. "I thought you said you didn't want to disturb the lesson?"

"No I didn't. I told you not to let me. Not doing such a good job, so far, are you?"

Wendy rolled her eyes. "So what do you mean, not too much of a problem?"

"I meant that Harry should already be able to do those spells without tuition."

"What?" said Harry.

"Why?" said Wendy. 

"Well, because of his father, and because of all the other spells he's learnt, and… and some other reasons." He gave Harry a pointed look.

"Which you're not going to tell me," said Wendy. 

"Not yet."

Harry understood. He was now automatically good at Transfiguration because he was almost an animagus, or an ani… whatever Sirius had said it was. 

And then it hit him. Sirius had _told _him about Remus coming. Sort of. And he needed Remus to tell him about what had happened that morning. 

Suddenly for the first time, Harry couldn't wait for this lesson to end, so that he could talk to Remus. 

"All right then Harry. You settle it," Wendy was saying. "Show us what you can do. Transfigure the desk into a dog or something."

Harry stared at her. "You're kidding! It's huge!"

"If you're as good as Remus says you are, size shouldn't matter in the slightest. Go on."

Harry reached for his wand, but Wendy smacked his hand with her own. "Don't you dare, young man," she said. 

"You've got him on wandless spells?" exclaimed Remus. 

"Of course," Wendy said, ignoring her friend's astonishment. "Go on, Harry."

Harry stood up and touched his desk with one hand. "Dog," he said quietly. 

"Don't say it like it's a question, Harry," said Remus. "Say it firmly."

"Better yet, don't say it at all," said Wendy. Harry rolled his eyes at her. 

Dog, he thought, very firmly. Dog, dog, do-

The wood beneath his hand was suddenly very soft. Harry had his hand on an enormous Alsatian dog, and it was growling at him, rather ferociously. 

Harry thought 'desk' then, rather quickly. The change was so sudden that the desk he created was an extremely posh medieval piece of furniture with dogs' paws at the end of its legs and complete with drawers and secret compartments. 

At least, it looked like it had secret compartments. 

All in all, it was a beautiful piece of work, and Harry immediately felt rather proud of it. 

Would you rather freeze to death…?

"Harry," breathed Wendy. "That was amazing!" She turned to Remus. "How did he do that?" 

Remus rather wisely chose not to answer that. He ran a hand over the now mahogany surface of the desk. "Nice work," he muttered. 

"It's_ beautiful_," Wendy corrected. 

"Shouldn't I turn it back/" asked Harry regretfully. 

"Don't you dare!" gasped Wendy. 

"It _does_ look a bit out of place," Remus agreed with Harry.

There was a pause as they all stared at Harry's desk. 

"Why don't we swap it with Professor McGonagall's one?" said Harry. "To thank her for letting us use her classroom."

"You're too soft, Harry," said Wendy. "All right. Swap the desks over, with your hands behind your back, and then you can come to my classroom and make me a desk."

Harry glared at her. "You never give up, do you?"

Wendy smiled. "Not likely."

They spent the rest of that whole afternoon showing Remus Harry's Charms, and Wendy his Transfiguration skills. 

The clearing and moving of Professor McGonagall's desk was just the beginning. He spent five minutes switching the candles on and off with his eyes closed, and then changing the colour of the curtains to better suit the scheme of the room. 

After _that_, Wendy suggested they re-decorate the whole classroom, and by the time they had finished lunch was all but over. 

At least in all the fun, Wendy had forgotten about the desk of her own. Harry was very unsure that he would be able to do it again, at least on purpose. 

Remus gave him a wink as Wendy danced out of the classroom before them, yelling 'Ladies first!' _He _hadn't forgotten.

"Where have you two been?" Professor Sinistra demanded as soon as they entered. 

Remus politely closed the door behind them. 

Snape looked venomous. "What's _he _doing here?"

Harry hissed something very rude at him in Parseltongue. 

"What was that?" Snape wanted to know.

"Nothing."

"Remus is here under my protection, Severus, and will remain so until he is needed elsewhere," said Professor Dumbledore.

Snape muttered incoherently. Harry found himself wishing fervently that Sleeve were with him. The slimy potions teacher wouldn't be so quick to object with a great whacking fang hole in his nose.

"And I want it understood," said Dumbledore, looking down the table, "by all of you, that his presence here is to remain an utter secret from the students. Is that understood?" 

All the teachers and Harry nodded. 

"Now," said Dumbledore, "let me draw you up a chair…"

"No, professor," said Wendy. "Let Harry do it."

"Wendy!" Harry complained. "I'm exhausted!"

"It's only a chair," said his teacher with an evil grin, and passed him a pin from her robes. 

"You are joking," said Professor McGonagall with a small laugh. 

Harry sighed. If Wendy wanted to show off, that was her problem. He tossed the pin up in the air, and when it came back down, it was a chair. A very _nice _chair. 

He placed it carefully between himself and Wendy and sat down himself, not meeting anyone's eyes. 

"But… but they are not even _relatively _the same size!" protested Professor McGonagall. 

Remus sat down in the chair, a huge grin plastered on his face that was totally against his character. 

"We'll have to develop this fancy streak of yours, Harry," he said, stroking the fine leather on the arms of his seat, and running his fingers over the intricate wood carving in the back. 

Harry shrugged. "It's just a chair," he said, and then bit into a sandwich before anyone could argue with him. 

People did though. Everyone commented on how well Harry had come along, trying to hide the surprise in their eyes, all except Dumbledore, who was smiling enough to make Harry feel prouder than everyone else's comments made him. 

As he left the Great Hall with Remus afterwards, the great chair floating along behind them, Harry heard whisperings and rumbles (Hagrid) demanding of Dumbledore and Wendy how Harry had done it, and what else exactly could he do?

As soon as they were out of earshot, Harry said quickly, "Remus, did you hear from-"

Remus held up a hand. He motioned at Harry's left palm. Harry glanced at it. 

The words read 'The walls have ears.'

Harry stared at it. And the portraits he thought back. 

Remus looked at his own hand, and smiled. He led Harry through part of the castle he had rarely visited. He tried hard to memorise the way, just in case. 

Finally they reached a gargoyle that looked a little like a wolf in a crouch. Remus obviously thought so, because he made a face as he leaned down to whisper the password. 

The Gargoyle sprang aside and Remus and Harry stepped inside. 

It was a cosy, square room, a little like Gryffindor common room, with two doors on the opposite side and a fire that sprang into life as they entered. 

Remus closed the opening, and they settled into large, soft armchairs facing each other. 

Harry, skinny as he was, felt lost in his. 

"Do you like it?" Remus asked him. 

"Sure," said Harry, distractedly. "So, _did_ you hear from Sirius today?"

Remus looked him straight in the eyes. "Yes, I did. And he told me everything. But there is something I need to tell you first."

Harry realised that this was what he had offered to speak to him about for Wendy. 

"Harry, there is something about Alula – Wendy – that you don't know. Alula… is Sirius' sister."

**There? OK? I know half of you there saw that coming, but I was hardly going to change it now, was I?

Here be thanks:

August wynd: that's the longest review I've ever had in only two sentences! 

Calm, deep soothing thoughts… Yeah, so anyway, of course you were right. Everyone was right. Why do I have to be so predictable? Oh yeah, but I haven't explained any of the others! Muahahahahah! 

Kay

Shudurrani

Leaf: why do people always ask me that? Like I'm telling!! He, he, sorry.

Katani Petitedra: Hello Kit. Now at least I see why you wanted a dragon. Please 

could you tell me where your pen name comes from? I hate unfathomable things… oh wait! I am one!

Icedrake

Sky Chief: He, he, he, comforting… I hope you keep that resolution…

Mysia: I love him too. He's my favourite original character. Not that I have many yet. Like… two. Four.

Jordan

Evil Snapple Pie: Talk about your story research! How do you know so much 

about stars? Oh yeah, the 'freeze' thing... well the truth is I finish a chapter then go through looking for a great place to put it. But I promise, there is a point! Though when I get it, no one is going to think it's all that important. Oh well. Glad you are writing… get on with it!! Sorry. Hyperventilating…  ok. I am fine… so you lucky thing! You have your long break now. Grrr. Yes, I saw two towers and of course it rocked. Mainly because they bits they cut out don't morph the story. Unlike a certain two other films I could mention, but I'm not going to because I went through that whole argument with my friends at lunch today. 

Autumn Dreams

Potter Pikachu: hybrid... hmm nice thought. Bad mental image for some reason. 

Oh well. Thanks for reviewing.

Shahducky: ha! Not telling till next chapter!

Tima: Ok, I read it already! Thanks for the review. 

Ellen: Whoops… hope you get up ok…

Ok, now this time I know I missed someone because I deleted one by mistake so sorry whoever that is and anyone else I stupidly missed. 

Are you mad? Then it's done its job.

Love ~*~Laterose~*~.   **


	10. A is for Alula and Animuchos

**I'm 14!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Heh, heh, sorry. Yay!!!

Happy birthday to me!!!

Ok, that's enough. Now, I know you're all mad because I solved one mystery and added a new one, but I'll solve that one this chapter. Promise. 

Oh yeah, and if you are reading please review. I know there are some that don't because I am appearing mysteriously on the fav lists of people I've never heard from. Don't you know I am an addict? Just acknowledge yourself! **

"Sirius _sister?_"

"Yes. They're twins."

"_Twins?_"

"Yes."

"I don't believe it!"

"Oh? Why is it so hard to believe?"

"Because… because…."

Harry stopped. Now he thought about it, he knew where he had seen those eyes before. And he knew why Wendy had been in Poland. And he knew-

"Is that why-?"

"Yes, it is. Most of the Ministry, most of everyone really, believed that Alula was some kind of double agent because of her relationship with his 'right hand'. She was one of the greatest Aurors in the country of course~"

"She _what?_"

"But she could just as easily have been a very dangerous addition to Voldemort's growing ranks of Death Eaters. There was no evidence against her, but she left."

"Why?"

"Because no one trusted her."

"But surely… Voldemort is feared throughout the whole world, isn't he? Surely they would have heard of Wendy in Poland?"

"They did. But they didn't know as much about Sirius as we do here. She was accepted there. She even found a husband."

Remus sighed, perhaps a little harder than he'd meant to. 

"You really missed her, didn't you?" said Harry, to fill the silence.

"I did. I wrote to her for about a year, but then she stopped replying. She thought that I was spying on her for the Ministry."

"But she was so happy to see you when you came in."

"I wrote to her again, as soon as I learned that she was at Hogwarts. I suppose she believed me after that."

There was another silence. Harry thought hard. It all clicked into place. 

"Does she know about – about –?"

"Yes." Remus laughed. "She snooped around a bit until she found out what Sirius and the others were up to. She knows about Sirius' animagus form."

"But isn't that dangerous? To Sirius, I mean? Dumbledore still hasn't told her he's innocent."

"I don't think she thinks it's significant enough to tell anyone about it. And I think Dumbledore is saving up that sweet moment for Sirius. That'll be a moment to remember."

"What do you mean, not significant? That could get him caught, wouldn't it? Then everyone would believe her again."

Remus smiled. "Harry, Alula is too scared of the Ministry to go anywhere near them. So who do you think would be the first person she'd tell if she decided to?"

Harry thought about that. "Dumbledore of course – oh."

"Exactly. Well, now that that's cleared up…"

Harry still wanted to know more, but the glint in Remus' eye brought him back to the disturbing events of that morning's training session. 

"So he wrote to you?"

"In a way." Remus smiled, and gestured to the palm of his left hand. 

"So he _told _you?"

"Yes. He told me what happened this morning."

"So what _did _happen?"

Remus eyed him shrewdly. "What do you know already?"

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"I had fur yesterday and feathers today. Oh, and talons like an owl."

"And what did Sirius say?"

"Not a lot. He called me an ani – something."

"An animuchos."

Harry frowned and repeated the word, rolling it over on his tongue and in his mind. 

"Sounds Spanish."

"It is. The first ever animuchos was a Spaniard. There wasn't a name for it before then, so he named it. No one really minds because it's so rare."

"But what is it? You're evading the question."

"I want to be sure first of all."

Harry didn't say anything. He could feel another request for performance coming on. 

****************************************************

Five minutes later, Harry was concentrating as hard as he could on thinking of nothing, for the second time that day.

The wind howled outside the window. Harry screwed his eyes up, trying to concentrate. 

Surprisingly, it took less time than the other two transformations had done. 

It was also complete.

Harry felt triumph rushing through him before he even opened his eyes. He could tell without being told that he was no longer a human, and there were no human parts in him whatsoever. 

For some reason, he felt a little squashed. When he finally opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that he had a very long nose.

The second thing he noticed was that he was extremely small. The floor was practically at his eye level. He could see a crooked Knut underneath the chair he was currently standing near. Standing on all four, black clawed paws. 

A huge hand swooped into view. A momentary fear swept through Harry's tiny brain, but he was over that stage now. His rodent instincts were not going to get the better of him. 

He was held up high until he was staring straight into two sharp brown eyes lined with wrinkles. 

Remus' mouth was wide open. He absent-mindedly ran a thumb over Harry's head. He closed his whole hand over him while he took deep breaths. 

Sitting in the dark, Harry squeaked indignantly. 

Remus almost dropped him. Shaking, he put the black rodent down on the sofa. He turned away as Harry changed back. 

The transformation was faster than ever.

"See!" said Harry when he was done. "See? I defiantly wasn't a mouse before! I had feathers!"

Remus nodded silently. 

"But it was absolutely - Remus?"

"I can't believe this."

"Believe what?"

"You're an animuchos. The first in five hundred years."

"Remus, this is really starting to irritate me. Tell me what is going on – or I'll blow something up. You know I can."

Remus smiled. Even he could tell that was a joke. 

"An animuchos is a very rare creature, Harry."

Harry decided to ignore that last remark.

"Animagi forms come form the form the human would have taken, if they had been born to a different mother. Or father." He added. 

"Sorry?"

"Everyone has two destinies, Harry. But they can't both be human. If Sirius' parents, for example, had decided not to have a baby after all, Sirius would still have been born, but to a couple of great big black dogs somewhere."

"Right…."

"But rarely, very rarely, someone is born that only has one destiny. You _had _to be born to James and Lily, Harry. If you'd been born to a dog, or a cat or something, you would never have been able to…"

"To what?" said Harry. "To defeat Voldemort, you mean?"

"Well, I'm not sure exactly. It could be that. Or it could be something you haven't done yet. It could even be both."

"So what you're telling me is that I don't have two destinies, or forms, so I can't have an animagus form, right?"

"Correct."

"So what _am _I?"

"You, Harry, are an animuchos. You can change into any animal, or plant if you feel like it, that you want to."

Harry let that sink in. 

"Any one?"

"Yes."

"Even a plant?"

"Yes."

"Why would I want to be a plant?"

"I don't know. Harry, are you all right?"

Harry's mind had gone officially blank. Great. Add this to the freak files, why don't you?

He only thought that for about a second though, when the enmity of what Remus had said hit him. 

He sat stunned. Then he asked,

"What's the catch?"

Remus smiled. "Animuchi, if that is the correct term, always have a distinct mark or trait by which they can be recognised."

Harry thought about that.

"Ok. So what's mine?"

Remus frowned. "I haven't noticed one. That's what worries me."

"So how do I find out?"

"There's only one way."

Harry groaned loudly.

************************************************

An hour later, (Remus insisted he rest before he did), Harry made his first deliberate transformation into the animal of his choice. It was much harder. 

Instead of thinking of the blackness and the words, he also had to think about what shape he wanted to be.

It had to be one he knew a lot about or he'd get it wrong, unless he just let his magic change him into whatever it wanted, as it had previously.

He chose a cat for no other reason other than Professor McGonagall had made them study felines in great intensity while they were studying Animagi in Transfiguration. 

Because it was his first form, the cat was thereafter Harry Potter's favourite form.

In just a few minutes, despite the difficulty of the new task, a sleek, black tomcat was purring on the chair opposite Remus Lupin. 

"Don't get fur on my chair," said the man. He jumped as words flashed across his hand. 

'It's not your chair.'

"You can do that even in your form?" he exclaimed rapturously. 

'Uh… I guess so?'

"Well, I suppose Sirius does it when he's feeling lazy."

The words came back. 'It's hard to read black words on black paws.'

Remus sighed. "You're probably right."

'Of course I am.'

"Well, I suppose it makes it easier for me to talk to you."

'Can you see my mark, Remus?'

"No."

'Brilliant.'

"You're just all black."

'Super.'

There was a pause.

'I was all black before, wasn't I?'

Remus slapped himself on the head with his free hand. "Of course! You're all black! That's your mark!"

'It's a bit a depressing mark if you ask me.'

"It's _perfect!'_

That startled Harry so much he turned back into a human. 

Remus started in his seat. "Well done, Harry! That was almost instantaneous!"

"What do you mean, perfect?"

"Well, imagine. If you had a really distinctive mark, like a pure white crescent moon on your forehead, you'd be noticed and recognised. But since you'll always be just black with no markings, you'll never be noticed! It's perfect!" he said again.

"Great," said Harry sarcastically. "So now I can turn into anything except a polar bear."

"You could. You'd just be a black one, that's all. Only a bear expert would be able to tell you weren't an ordinary forest bear," said Remus, quite seriously. 

Harry smiled. "I was joking."

"I know." Remus lied. 

"So what's the next lesson, know I've got this?"

"There isn't one."

"What?"

"There isn't one. This changes everything. You need no further instruction."

"Yes! No more study!"

"You're wrong there."

Harry glared at him. "I thought you said it was over."

"Only the need for you to be taught. You need to study animals, Harry. At least one a night, and then report to me or Sirius the next day."

"And practise?"

"Naturally."

Harry grinned. That was what he had been waiting for.

"But I don't need supervision anymore?"

Remus sighed. That boy got more like his father everyday. "No. I suppose you don't."

"In that case…" Harry made the change in a matter of seconds. 

The sleek black tomcat looked up at Remus as his sentence was finished on the palm of his teacher's hand. 

'I'd better get cracking, hadn't I?'

The door opened for the black cat as he bounded out into the corridor. Remus picked up a book, grinning. It had to be Sirius' influence.

***********************************************

Late that evening, Professor Dumbledore received a letter from the Ministry of Magic, stating that the 'enclosed' had been found in the belongings of Mr. William Anderson.

Inside the parchment envelope, he found another, paper one. The traces of a spell lingered around the Muggle object. The letter was addressed to him, but had clearly been opened. 

Dumbledore opened the envelope, unfolded the letter, and scanned its contents. 

_The St. Johns court sent Mr. Dumbledore greetings._

_The trial of Mr. And Mrs. Dursely, coupled with the juvenile case of Dudley Dursely would be taking place in three weeks time. Until then they were being held in police custody._

_The victim was not required at the trial, he had already stated in front of witness that he was not willing to submit information, and sufficient evidence had been collected. _

_They sent their regards._

_And a list of various Muggles. _

There was one relief at least. The Death Eaters had not found this document. It would have been dangerous if they had. 

As far as Dumbledore knew, Voldemort did not know of Harry's current position. It would be better for him to remain ignorant. 

Dumbledore thought back on what Remus had told him about Harry's progress.

It pleased him immensely.

_"Hi, Sleeve!"_

_"Good evening. You appear in high spirits, Master."_

_"I am! I am I am I am!!!"_

_"Goodness. One perceives that you are excited."_

Harry told his friend everything.

_"How interesting. Do you do snakes?"_

_"I think I'll stick with cats for time being, until I learn more."_

_"What is there to learn about snakes?"_

_"How they move for one thing."_

_"Movement is simple. It does not require instruction. You were not taught how to walk?"_

_"Of course I was."_

_"How very odd."_

*Boom yow! Cha ching! 

Sorry, I just feel like making weird noises. You're not a year older everyday. 

Sorry if the whole transformation thing seems rushed, but it's hard to explain that so many times without repeating yourself. You try it and see how far you get. 

Also, I want Harry to be full developed before school starts, so I guess I handled that Ok.

I love you people!!!

Here be thanks:

Shdurrani

Darienetta Stoke 

Andreas Steffen: I know, very cheesy word, but I do not know Latin! So yes, it 

was necessary!!! Thanks for the award though. I wear it with pride.

Lady Pheonix Gryffindor

Autumn Dreams: It's suprising really, because I thought a lot more people were 

telling me that they knew what was going on. Thanks for laughing at my little instalments of humour, cause no one else does! Boo hoo!

vampire goth

chaser

Gandalfgrl86

AllAboutMe: there's a thought…

Fizzysoda

Hpfan: marauder mayhem! Ha, I said it. THAnks very much for you 

appreciation… he he I love that word. You are right, some people tend to over do it, like… "Oh my god, I have a sister! A twin sister! Wow! I wonder how that could possibly have happened and how no one told me about it. Weird…" You are right. Not going to happen. Harry is recovering quickly because he is being kept busy on purpose. More about that later on in the fic. ER… more devotion to my life? Newsflash – I don't Have a life!!! 

Lunatyme

Icedrake

John: Hey, you gave me a laugh! Going to the toilet doesn't take that long; you 

know… Hey, I have been in that situation before. Maybe I should shut up.

Evil Snapple Pie: That's a pretty good site I am telling you. It took me forever to 

find a star name that I liked!!! FOREVER!! Ahem, sorry. I hate it when you guess right. (j/k!) the way you right sounds complicated but I'm sure it's not. I have started an original story which complicated my life to extremes. But I LOVE it! It Is going to rival lord of the rings, I swear. Well, maybe not THAT good…

Skahducky

Ssjgoddesschico

august wynd: yes, I love showing Harry off on purpose. Tons of fun.

Sabrina: I love irritating people with that one little phrase. It's like when I did my 

talk on fanfiction at school… but you don't want to hear that story. Wendy does not know of Sirius' innocence which is why she is so upset periodically.

Centra-gal86

Kateydidnt: erm.. no…

Jordan: yeah, that desk and chair kind of popped up out of nowhere… 

**snigger**

Trueblades: I hate that too. We should start a club.

Queen of Fire and Ice

JeZeBeL: er… yeah, hi. I don't think I need to put anything in here, do I? Thanks 

for getting to know me.

Iniysa

Kay

Callie: I notice you said 'forms', what are you, a seer? Only joking!

Xia Sarrasri: Who said anything about babies? **snigger**

Evil Willow: indeed.

AllieSkittlez: wouldn't you like to know?

Chocolate Frog

k00lgirl1808

**Phew, that's it. That took up all my evening. Damn! French revision! Hate it, hate it, and hate it. Oh well. Here it is folks. The next chapter is the last day of the holidays for Harry. Aw, what a shame. 

Hugs and kisses (sorry jez)

*~*~*~*~*~*Laterose~*~*~*~*~*  

**


	11. The Last Day of the Holidays and a Prefe...

**Hello again everyone. 11th Chapter? Is it possible? Duh, course it is. Yeah, yeah I know it has been a long time but this is exam week you know. Well, basically. Anyway, I have loads of stuff to say before I start and some of it's actually important, so you might want to read it. 

1st, thanks to everyone who wished me Happy Birthday! (I did kind of push the issue, didn't I?)

2nd, I am thinking of starting an unofficial mailing list. So, if you want to be on it, tell me in a review and I will tell you each time a new chapter comes out.

3rd, OH yeah, another reason for celebration, over 250 reviews!!! An extra thank you to everyone who did. 

4th, French exams approach so sorry if I take an absolutely ridiculous time posting. Well, there's no such thing as a ridiculous time to post but you know what I mean.

5th, for those of you who don't know, 5th book comes out 21 June people! Not much to get excited about since that's a whole 5 MONTHS! I hope I can finish this fic before then… 

6th, damn I forgot what I was going to say. 

7th, on with the fic already!

Harry woke up at about half six the next morning. It was nice not to have a throbbing pain in his hand when he woke late. Well, late for him. 

Sleeve was already up, for a change. 

_"Morning", _said Harry. 

_"If you say so."_

_"I do."_

_"All right, then."_

Harry chuckled and got dressed. 

_"When did you say the people who live over there," _he flicked his tail briefly to the other boys' beds _"are arriving."_

_"Tomorrow."_

_"You sound pleased."_

_"I am. I haven't seen Ron or the others for ages."_

_"Like a family, you mean."_

Harry smiled. Snakes did not understand the meaning of either friend or family. Harry had been doing his best, but still hadn't managed to convince his snake that you didn't have to ignore anyone who was not related to you by blood.

Sleeve had grasped the blood thing straight away. From there, the going was decidedly slow. 

Harry's argument was that Sleeve was Harry's friend, but then Sleeve pointed out that Harry could speak his language, and in a snake's eyes that made them practically brothers already. 

He decided not to pursue the subject right at that moment, or at least until he got the sleepy dust out of his eyes. 

_"Mind if I transform?" _he asked his friend when he was washed. 

_"Be my guest. Just desist from changing into anything that looks appetising."_

A couple of seconds later, the black cat was standing where the boy had been. 

_"How remarkable. I still think you should hurry up and study snakes. That way you can turn into something that at least looks attractive."_

Harry was only a little disappointed. He knew that it took a lot to get his slithery friend excited, and besides, there were other people he could impress when the time came. If he ever decided to, that is.

Harry ran outside and scratched at the portrait hole until it opened. "I say," said the Fat Lady, "where did you come from?"

Harry ignored her and ran down the stairs.

 It was glorious to run, to see the usually average sized paintings and suits of armour towering above him, to soar rather than run across the floor, his padded feet only touching the stones very slightly.

He streaked past Professor Flitwick, more by accident than anything, causing him to squeak with fright as a small black thing sped across his path.

He reached the Entrance Hall at seven on the dot, and he was first. His sense of triumph increased enormously just by that tiny thing.

Having already resumed his normal form outside the Great Hall door, just in case, he sat down and started the breakfast that appeared as soon as the big hand touched twelve. 

The teachers all looked surprised as they filed in to see him already there. 

They were also pleasantly surprised to see the amount of food on his plate, which was visibly larger than usual, so they promptly ignored the fact that his hair was in an even worse mess than usual. 

"Hungry, Harry?" asked Hagrid as he sat down. 

"Yeah," said Harry, swallowing quickly. He was ravenous. The transformations took more out of him than he had expected them to.

Sensing his good mood, the teachers engaged him in polite conversation, mostly about his lessons with Wendy. Or rather Alula. 

Wendy herself stayed quiet, except when someone talked to her. She kept glancing nervously at her pupil. 

Harry felt he knew why. She was wondering whether Remus had told him about her relationship to Sirius or not. 

All the teachers were shocked when Harry told them of his progress with Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms. They had already had proof of the havoc he could wreak with Transfiguration.

Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall both agreed not to show Harry up in class, but only after he'd asked them _very _nicely. 

By the fact that she didn't mention it, Harry guessed that Professor McGonagall had not seen the new addition to her classroom's décor. 

He supposed that she either didn't set foot in her classroom until term started, or she was just to scared to see what he, Wendy and Remus had done in there the day before. He had a hunch someone had been dropping hints. 

Either way, Harry hoped she'd notice before he had a class in there. He didn't want to have to explain in front of all the fifth year Gryffindors. 

When the post arrived, everyone looked up with apprehension, but there was nothing menacing, only a couple of notes and a copy of the _Daily Prophet _as usual.

Professor McGonagall looked up at Harry before she opened it.

"There shouldn't be anything in there," said Harry, though his throat was tight and he was secretly praying there wasn't. 

But it was safe. The front page was simply a picture of Cornelius Fudge who kept trying to keep his bowler hat from falling off, and dashing in and out of the picture now and then to catch it when he threw it away in frustration.

Below him was the heading:

'CORNELIUS FUDGE: WORRIED BY NEW ATTACKS'

"Well, at least he's starting to sit up and take notice," said Professor Sinistra. 

"What's the betting he doesn't do anything about it?" said Harry, feeling malicious. He hated Fudge. It was partly his fault that the attacks were going on in the first place.

Would you rather freeze to death…? 

"I'd say it's about ten thousand to one," said Professor Dumbledore, looking even grimmer than Harry.

"Never tell me the odds," squeaked Professor Flitwick. 

When Harry had finished eating, Wendy stood up, having hardly eaten anything herself. 

"You coming?" she asked with a weak – and very fake – smile. "Or are you bunking off today?"

"No fear!" said Harry, with a genuine grin. "But I thought we'd covered everything."

"Not by half, cheeky."

Harry made a face that made Hagrid chuckle, and Professor's Sinistra and Vector start giggling, an odd pastime for teacher's their age, Harry thought. 

He followed Wendy all the way up to her own classroom. She didn't speak to him the whole way, but he understood her silence.

Once they entered, Wendy made sure the door was firmly closed before looking back at Harry. 

"He told you?" she blurted out quickly.

"Yah," said Harry with an offhand shrug. 

"You don't… you're not…?"

"I don't care," said Harry. Then, realising that that sounded not only childish but also unbelievable, he added quickly. "I mean, you can't help who you're related to, can you?"

Wendy paused in thought, then embraced him in a tight hug that reminded Harry of Sirius more than anything else had done so far. 

"So you don't mind still working with me?" Wendy was saying. "You honestly don't mind? I mean, he tried to kill you…" her throat closed and she started at him pleadingly.  

"Of course I don't mind. I've seen and met enough Death Eaters to know you aren't one."

"No one knew about Crouch," said Wendy slyly. 

"How did you know about that?"

"Honestly, Harry, did you think I was completely ignorant? Dumbledore filled me in on everything that happened last year – and before."

Not everything, thought Harry. "Ok… but still Crouch wasn't…you know, nice."

Wendy hugged him again. 

************************

When they had got over their joyful (or rather embarrassing) re-acquaintance, they got down to business. 

"Well," said Wendy. "We have come a very long way this week, obviously – but I had this thought last night. What I'm going to teach you today, Harry, is probably one of the most important lessons you'll ever learn."

For some reason, that sent a brief chill down Harry's spine. He could remember that, in all different voices… weird…

"Obedience is a virtue I'm going to have to teach you before you die…" 

_"I'll have to give you a little lesson in manners, Harry…"_

_"Come here boy! I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget!"_

_"This is one of the most important lessons you'll ever learn at Hogwarts…"_

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you listening?"

"Yeah! I mean yes, I am."

"Ok… well, as I was saying, you know how do shields in all kinds of different ways by now, which I'm sure you've been practising."

Harry nodded, but he was lying. He already knew them, and he wasn't a Hermione look alike yet. 

"Ok, but it still takes you a second or two to raise them, and they won't do any good if someone hits you from behind without warning."

"Right…" Harry couldn't really see where this conversation was going.

"So what you're going to do is raise a shield that is up constantly."

Harry laughed. "Are you mad? I can't go around covered in silvery light the whole time! Despite the fact that I'll look unbelievably stupid, I can hardly see through them – plus, they're hard to keep up. How am I ever going to do anything with an effort like that?"

"No, Harry I'm not mad, despite all appearances. And this shield will be invisible, and effortless to hold. You get on with your normal life through it, and you make it so that anything except spells and possibly weapons can get through."

"It sounds impossible."

"There's no such word."

"Want to bet?"

"Too right. Ok, I'll talk you through it."

Harry reluctantly closed his eyes and concentrated on her words. 

"Raise a shield."

Harry did so instantaneously, holding his hand out in front of him with the silvery threads of light streaming from his fingers. 

"Now move your hand closer to you."

Harry brought the shield closer to his chest as his elbow bent.

"Turn your hand towards you."

If Harry had been in a normal state of mind, he would have refused, but even as he was, he was in a kind of trance. 

He turned his wrist so that his palm faced him. What should have been blistering heat but was now comfortable warmth enveloped him. 

"Touch your hand to your heart."

Harry tried, but the shield seemed to be resisting. It didn't want to do what Harry wanted. 

"The shield is yours, Harry. Order it around."

Harry hadn't ever really had anything to order around, so he was still a little slow in persuading the shield that it was going to do what _he _wanted, not what it would prefer. 

The silvery light blossomed against his robes as his hand met his upper torso. It covered him all over, and then slowly seeped into his skin, strand by strand, until the little piece covering his eyes vanished, and the room was normal again, except his glasses seemed to have fallen off. 

"Is it gone?" he asked. 

"Yep!" said Wendy happily. "No one should be able to get through that, now. It's as solid as rock. You're even stronger than I thought, Harry, and I should know, after all."

"But I've never been strong before," said Harry, fumbling on the desk top for his glasses.  "Why right now?"

Wendy shrugged. "I don't know… maybe its puberty – hey, that's an interesting theory I should look into… are you all right?"

Harry had moved onto the floor in his search. "I'm looking for my glasses."

Wendy laughed. "Don't be an idiot, Harry. They're on your face."

Harry stood up and raised his hand to his eyes instinctively. The familiar shape of his frames was there.

He squinted. "I don't think this shield is working. I can't see through it properly."

"Try taking them off."

Harry did so.

"Hey! I can see!"

"Good for you."

"Did you know it was going to do that?"

"No. I've never seen anyone do it before."

Harry looked at her sharply. "You'd better not have made that spell up."

"Would I do that?"

Harry eyed her suspiciously, but said nothing. "Why do you think it cured my eyes?"

"I don't think it went that far. It's just neutralising your eyes, that's all."

"It's the same thing."

"Well, I don't think its permanent."

"How would you know if you've never seen anyone do it before?"

Wendy thought about that. Then, unable to find anything wrong with it, she admitted, "Well, you're probably right. Just… carry a pair of glasses around just in case, that's all."

"Whatever."

Harry suddenly realised that although the shield he had created in his skin was not a living thing, he could sense its presence.

If he probed around in the area where he got his magic for the shields for, he could almost see the power of it, like a steady pulse of magic inside him. 

"Right. Now comes the fun part."

Harry groaned audibly. 

"That's right! Fun for me. We get to test your shield."

"Hallelujah."

At this, Wendy assumed her 'Death Eater' robes of black, which didn't surprise Harry in the least seeing as she'd taught him how to do that only a couple of days before. 

"And no fighting back," said the Dark Figure in a voice that didn't suit it. 

Nerves seemed to be making him feel light-headed, or that might just have been the loss of his glasses. 

Accordingly, Harry flicked his wand and his new jeans and T-shirt were replaced by green combat robes (Wendy had shown him hers) with gold trim.

"Very stylish," said the 'Death Eater' with only a very small amount of surprise. "Have at ye! Expelliarmus!"

His wand flew out of his hand and into hers. Oh well.

When Wendy sent the first curse flying at him he threw up a shield that impaired his vision by a hundred per cent, but still swallowed the spell. Harry decided he was going to have to work on that.

"Petrificus Totalus Mortem!" 

Harry's shield deflected the curse, and it went spinning back towards the sender.

Wendy only just jumped out of the way before it hit the wall and vanished, burning rather a large hole on the way. 

Harry's sense of triumph barely had time to surface before Wendy apparated to the opposite end of the room.

He did not have time to even turn around before another curse shot straight at his back. Instead, it hit his new permanent shield. 

The force made him stumble, but he was otherwise unharmed. He reached inside himself for the power source of that shield and found it slightly depleted.

He reckoned it could stand two more of those spells before one broke through unless he strengthened it, and right now he really didn't have the time.

He spun around to block a very strong curse with an equally strong shield. The result was an explosion that made his teeth chatter. 

The 'Death Eater' stumbled, and Harry smiled just a little. He was winning, and he still hadn't attacked her. 

His instincts were screaming at him to just curse his teacher, but instincts weren't always that accurate, in Harry's opinion, and they could all simply get stuffed. 

His most recent shield faded from his hands and he saw Wendy properly. She lowered her wand, but did not remove the hood.

"Is that it?" asked Harry, a little disappointed. Then he realised that his teacher wasn't looking at him, but at a point somewhere behind his left shoulder…

"Houndicastras!" 

Caught by surprise yet once more, Harry went flying over a desk by the mere force of the spell that crashed into his permanent shield in the small of his back. 

Strike two.

When he stood up again, mercifully unharmed aside from a sore arm and an injured pride, he saw there was another Death Eater standing in the doorway. 

Of course, it wasn't a _real_ Death Eater, or Wendy would be doing something about it, but it was still _very_ lifelike…

Harry was by now so at one with his shield that he could feel its increasing weakness. It would shatter on the next turn. 

It was also obvious that now, with two opponents advancing on him, it was unlikely that he was going to win by defence.

It was only a game.

But it was a game he wanted to win more than anything.

He threw up a large shield to defend himself while he tried to come to a solution – and just in time.

The two curse hit in unison, but Harry had put most of what he had left into that shield, and his hands held it firmly, the flashes of silver obscuring his new-found, perfect sight.

_No fighting back._

Great.

The only other form of defence he knew was a Patronus, but that was also attack – sort of – and also wouldn't work.

He concentrated on strengthening his handheld shield as he tried to think what to do. He edged backwards until he felt his back touch the wall. No one was going to sneak up behind him this time.

When his visible shield was as strong as he could make it, with heard but unseen curses banging into it by the second, Harry reached into himself and found the core of power controlling the permanent one. 

Bit by agonizing bit, he leeched his energy force to strengthen that shield.

The voices behind his defence were so morphed that there could have been four or five of them behind it for all Harry knew. 

He kept his hands out straight in front of him holding up the silvery wall of light as he grew weaker and weaker but his inner shield grew so strong that it could have burst from his skin.

And then, he let the outer shield down. 

He ducked as a curse flew his way, and spun on his heel as another came from the opposite direction.

He levitated himself and flew across the room and onto the ceiling like a spider. As Wendy and the other black robed figure tried to reach him without their hoods falling off, he floated down behind them very quietly and raised another very small silver defence. 

It had the reflexive power of a catapult. 

Harry smiled fiercely as the two combined spells whacked into his shield, killing it completely, and then flew straight back into the faces of their owners.

His opponents fell over backwards, and the castle wall was now decorated with two large burn holes in the stone. 

"Ok, Ok! WE GIVE UP!" Wendy laughed in absolute exultation. "That was so much fun!"

Sure, fun for you, thought Harry, but he was only joking. He had beaten two full-grown wizards without cursing either of them. By pure defence. 

"I enjoyed it," said the other figure, standing up and shrugging off his costume.

"Remus!" cried Harry. "You were in on it too!"

"I love that game," said Wendy with a huge grin on her face.

"We used to do that at school," said Remus when Harry looked at him in puzzlement. Then a dreamy look came over his face. "I _never _got to be the Death Eater."

"You were BRILLIANT!" Wendy announced, hugging him almost as tightly as she had Harry earlier. 

Harry made a face. Wendy laughed. "Tell you what, Harry, to make it up to you tomorrow we'll switch roles, yeah? Hey, Harry, are you all right?"

Harry was starting to feel very weary, as though he'd just lifted a heavy weight. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

"You come with me then," said Remus, smiling like a ten year old. "We've got things to talk about."

"Ok then."

As they turned to leave, Wendy said, "Oh, yeah, Harry, tomorrow we'll play in the afternoon. I know you'll want to sort out your stuff for school and everything, and you know…" she blushed a little, glancing very briefly at Remus. "We both need our free time." 

Harry grinned at her in reply and left after Remus. 

They made the same trip as before. Harry was pretty sure he knew the way now. 

When they entered the cheery room where Remus had taken up residence, Harry collapsed into an armchair.

"You could see it, couldn't you?" he asked Remus with his eyes closed.

"I most certainly could."

"Then why didn't she?"

"She was having too much fun. You should not have put so much into that shield."

"Well I realise that _now…_"

"Do you really?"

"I think the fact that my legs feel like they've gone through a grinding machine convinced me."

"How is your shield now?"

"Solid as rock. Which is more than I can say for me."

"All you need is rest. You needn't move. Just lie there, and tell me all about the animal you studied last night."

Harry groaned. 

"Come now. Imagine what all this is going to be like on top of your school lessons."

"I'd rather not, if it's all the same."

"I don't mind in the slightest. Where are your glasses?"

"Don't need them. Shield cured them. Sort of."

"Ok," he only sounded a bit surprised. "So, what did you choose to talk to me about today?"

"Sleeve said I ought to look at snakes."

"Sleeve?"

"Yeah, my snake."

"Oh yes. I seem to remember Ali telling me about that." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Was he really curled around Snape's Dark Mark?" 

"Yep."

"But that means…"

"Yeah. The Dark Lord issued them. All the Death Eaters have them."

"But surely, Snape is no longer…"

"He's spying again. For Dumbledore. He makes a show of going to the meetings and that, and he's sometimes on missions with the other Death Eaters, but he's usually just here. Voldemort thinks he's spying for him. Like before."

"Harry, how on earth do you know? I'll bet no one told you."

"No one tells me anything. I work things out for myself."

Remus seemed to sense that Harry didn't want to go into any detail, although he had his suspicions on how Harry had obtained his information.

"So, snakes, right?"

"Yeah. Sleeve reckons that I don't need to learn anything because I'm a snake already."

Remus laughed. "And what did you tell him?"

"That I doubted it."

Harry then launched into a long, revised speech on the basic anatomy and behaviour of snakes. Then he moved on to different species. By the time he was repeating himself, still flat out on the armchair with his eyes closed, Remus had had enough.

"All right, all right. You've worked hard."

"Not really. Sleeve was sort of right, anyway. I knew half of it already, without realising I did. Freaky, right?"

Remus thought it was, but he was certainly not going to say so. He had not learned of Harry's Parselmouth abilities since that article in the Daily Prophet. A quick note to Dumbledore had confirmed the facts. 

Not that he really _minded,_ as Remus had never ever had any non human prejudices, (not that he could) but still, Parseltongue…

"Well, whatever it is, you know enough about snakes now to try it whenever you want, all right? Only I'd wait until you can at least stand up."

Harry smiled and opened his eyes. "I feel better now. Not up to a new transformation, but I think I'll make my way up Gryffindor Tower on four paws. It seems faster that way."

"Whatever you think best. But don't go exhausting yourself before tomorrow. I'll see you at dinner."

Harry nodded and regretfully pulled himself off the chair. His tiredness, though irritating, was also strangely calming. His transformation was a little slower than usual, but what mattered?

He rubbed against Remus' legs once, then hopped out of the hole in the wall as the Gargoyle opened for him. 

Rather unfortunately, he hadn't gone more than a few steps before he met Professor McGonagall. 

"Hello there!" she said in an odd voice that he hadn't heard her use before. "What are you doing here, you beautiful thing?"

Harry couldn't help stretching out with pride a little at that. 

She knelt down and stroked his glossy black fur. She cooed as though talking to a baby, praising him. 

He started to feel a bit uncomfortable after a while. He tossed his head as best he could, and gave her a pointed look.

She appeared to understand, and talked to him in normal speech. "I'm headed north. Are you coming?"

Harry hopped up onto her shoulder, making her giggle. Harry would have laughed if he had been able to. Professor McGonagall giggling?

She stood up, and walked quite normally in the general direction of Gryffindor Tower.

When they reached his stop, Harry hopped off gracefully and sped off on his appointed course, hearing a rather disgruntled "oh, fine then," from the Transfiguration Teacher, who took a different turning.

Someone very familiar was waiting for him when he got back. 

As soon as he opened the door to the dormitory, he was almost bowled over by a figure that only came up to his knee wearing some very unusual clothes. 

"Dobby?"

"Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!"

"That's my name, Dobby."

Dobby stopped hugging him and stood back. 

"Dobby had to come and see Harry Potter," he said excitedly. "I is offering to do the last dormitory check so that I can be staying longer."

"That's… that's great, Dobby."

"Yes sir! But… Harry Potter is looking different…"

Harry wondered what he was talking about for a minute.

"I don't need my glasses anymore."

"Oh."

As Dobby mulled over that, Harry looked around the room. It was almost spotless. 

"You didn't have to do this, Dobby!"

Dobby looked affronted. "Oh yes, Dobby did sir. It is Dobby's job, sir. But there was just one thing, sir…"

"What was that?"

"It is this, sir," Dobby pointed out the huge black patch in the carpet. Harry winced. 

"You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Of course not, Harry Potter! It is against the rules! But, Harry Potter, I can not get rid of it. It is not moving, sir."

His lip trembled as if he thought Harry might be angry with him for it.

"Did you try using magic, Dobby?"

"Yes, sir. Dobby is allowed, sir, because Dobby is a free elf, and is allowed to do all sorts of things… but it is not working sir. I is not knowing why, sir."

"I tried that too…" said Harry. "Tell you what, why don't we try it together?"

"You will help me, Harry Potter sir?" his eyes shone with tears.

"It's just a bit of spilled ink," said Harry. "Come over here a minute." 

Dobby moved towards the ink and knelt down beside Harry, who whispered to him to try his strongest cleaning spell and sustain it. 

Harry himself, found that little core of magic inside him. As Dobby stuck a long finger to the floor, Harry fed him a little of that magic energy, as much as he could spare at that moment. 

It was enough. Dobby squeaked, and the black patch on the carpet faded, and turned back to red. 

Dobby pulled his hand back and sucked his finger. 

"Are you all right?" Harry asked quickly. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, Harry Potter sir," said Dobby with wide eyes. "But that is a _lot _of magic Harry Potter is giving Dobby."

"It's all I can spare, I'm afraid," said Harry. "Enjoy it while you can."

"I will, Mr. Harry Potter sir!" 

Dobby waved his hand, there was a crack, and the curtains straightened, the bed neatened and the carpet was even cleaner. 

Dobby danced out of the room with a hasty goodbye, and Harry heard loud 'cracks' all the way down the hall as the house elf quickly neatened all the other rooms. 

Harry barely had the strength to move. He flopped onto his bed and fell instantly into sleep. 

***********************************

It didn't last long. Far too soon, it seemed, someone was shaking him awake. 

"Mmmm?"

"Get up you lazy thing! You'll miss dinner."

"I don' care."

"Well, Madam Pomfrey does, and don't think I won't tell her."

Harry let Wendy drag him out of bed. 

"You were more tired than you let on, weren't you?"

Harry only grunted and rubbed his eyes. 

"Come on, then!"

Harry glared half-heartedly after her as she bounded down the stairs. He hated anyone with energy at that point. 

When they finally got down there, Harry had resorted to making faces at Wendy's back. Professor Sinistra smiled, Hagrid and Remus laughed outright. 

"What's so funny?" Wendy turned around and looked at him.

Harry gave her a blank, innocent look. Even she burst out laughing at that. 

"You look just like your father when you do that, Harry!"

Harry smiled a little and plonked himself down in his chair. Snape glared at him. Oh well, what was new?

The meal had already commenced. Remus looked a little sad. Harry guessed it was because it was his last time eating dinner in the Great Hall. He was going to have all his meals in his room until he left. 

What fun. Harry supposed there was a reason for Remus' stay, but no one ever told him anything. 

Remus nearly choked on his pie when Professor McGonagall said: "has anyone else seen a black cat around the school?"

"I did!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. "This morning. Of course I didn't get a very _good _look at it…"

"Yes, I reckon I've seen it around," said Remus, doing his best not to look straight at Harry.

Harry thought it would be proper to take the suspicion off himself at the offset. 

"Me too."

"Beautiful creature," mused Professor McGonagall. "I wonder where he came from?"

"I suppose it's entirely possible that it has lived here for years but hasn't wanted to be noticed before now," said Dumbledore. "Hogwarts is full of surprises like that."

Someone changed the subject at that point before the Headmaster could launch into a speech about the room with the chamber pots. 

When everyone had finished, Professor McGonagall gave Harry his Hogwarts letter.

"I know you already have the list," said Professor McGonagall. "But there is something else in there…"

Curious, Harry opened the envelope and took out the parchment. As he did, the 'something else' fell onto the table. It was a shiny silver badge. 

"You're joking!" said Harry, turning over and looking at the emblazoned P on the front of it. 

"Not in the least," said Professor McGonagall. 

Harry looked at her, the badge clutched in his hand. "You do remember who I am, don't you? The one who lost over two hundred points in his first year?"

"And gained them again," pointed out Professor Flitwick. 

Snape looked deadly.

"This is more like a passport, if you like," said Dumbledore. "It will give you more freedom around the school, and it has certain other… advantages."

"_AND_ we believe you to have good sense and bravery," said Professor McGonagall, glaring at Dumbledore. Evidently, that was NOT what she thought a prefect badge should be used for. 

"Er… yes, of course," said the Headmaster, giving Harry a look which said plainly 'can't argue with her'.

Harry fought the urge to laugh as he pinned the badge to his T-shirt. "Thanks a lot," he said, and meant it. 

"You're very welcome Harry," said Dumbledore. "Do Hogwarts proud."

"Fred and George are going to murder me."

"If it makes you feel better, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have also been elevated."

"Great. So I get slaughtered third. They might have thought up a more ingenious way of doing it by then."

"If they do you can always take points off Gryffindor."

"Wendy!"

"Just a thought."

***************************************

_"I still don't understand."_

_"What is it that makes it hard to understand? It just means that I get to move around the school without getting detention."_

_"Couldn't you do that anyway if you wanted to?"_

_"Well maybe, but now I can do it _**officially**_."_

_"What's officially?"_

_"It's allowed."_

_"Why must you do what is allowed?"_

_"Oh, I give up."_

_"Good choice."_

_"It's just a badge."_

_"I will accept that."_

Harry shook his head at Sleeve and crawled into bed. It had been a good day. After a fashion. Tomorrow evening he'd see Ron again.  After he'd suffered death by twins. 

**Oh my god that took a long time. I need sleep desperately. Oh well. I better finish while I'm ahead. 

Here be thanks:

Shdurrani

Sky Chief: Lots of Remus' there! I'm glad you like him. And I like Harry's humour too. He definitely needs some sometimes. 

Hypfan: no, no one knows except Remus and Dumbledore. Oh yeah, and Harry.

Harriet

AllAboutMe

Lupin's Niece AJ

Leaf

Gotta Luv Pippin

Badger Lord: yeah that would be kind of stupid if Harry was recogniseable because then there would not be much point in being animuchos would it?

Gandalfgrl86: yep the two destinies thing was a spur of the moment thought.

Ssjgoddesschico

Fizzysoda

Evil spapple pie: yeah yeah I know but I don't know any latin.

Tephra

Tigerdrake: thanks!

Karen

Jordan: he he you know I didn't think about that…

John: don't worry it'll be a scream.

Kateydidnt

WeasleyTwinsLover1112: hello 'gain.

SiLv[3]R

Musicgal2001: hmm yes kinda freaky…

Bumblebee Bucy: yes yes I knew. In the newspapers but not on the front page. Whyyy? Of course I forgive you! You won't miss this one cause it's very late.

K00lgirl1808

Autumn Dreams

Sabrina: whoops forgot the line.

Katani Petitedra

Lucerito-del-alba

Skahducky

Chanzo654

Jen

Centra-gal86

Chelsea Paton

Young Phoenix

Knight-Wolves

K. H. T.

The Queen of Fire and Ice

August wynd: yes, do you know why it's not a school day? Cause they reckon that kids will bunk off to go buy it first! He he dumb.

Shinystars007

Anon

NOT reader because you are just rude and horrid and mean and you can go jump in a hole.

Darienetta Stoke

Unknown(even to me

Lani Lathron

AllieSkittles: he he you pressed the button three times…

Angel

Chanzo654

Lanfear

Ok, ok that was long. Thank you everyone for the 52 reviews and stuff. Yeah cool. Sorry if I am seeming a bit short. Must… have… sleep…

Love ~Laterose~**


	12. Does everyone in this world have secrets...

**Finally! I get to write the students arriving! Also people wanted more Snape and I decided they were right so I did my best.

**As before, if you want to be on the unofficial mailing list, drop me a review to let me know. **

Yes! Past the 300 mark! Thank you everyone! **

It was the same dark corridor, the same eerie passageways. Harry followed the man with the silver hand up stairs and through doors (literally). 

_When they reached the final door, Wormtail's hand shook as he touched the door handle. He gently pushed the door open. It scarcely made a sound._

_"Ah… Wormtail. So good to see you. Everything is according to plan?"_

_"Y…yes… My Lord."_

_"Liar. My senses tell me that something is worrying you. Let me in on your little secret, Wormtail."_

_Wormtail began to tremble uncontrollably. Harry resisted the urge to kick him hard in the backside from where he was watching._

_He concentrated on the back of the chair. It was so huge that even Voldemort's head was not visible above it. A huge black thing decorated with skulls, it was probably The Dark Lord's own invention. _

_It was very good workmanship, Harry had to admit. His fingers suddenly itched to examine it._

_Wait! What on earth was he doing? Voldemort was sitting there! Harry shook his head firmly and reverted his eyes to look at the cringing heap on the floor that was Wormtail._

_"It is S…S…Snape, m…my lord…"_

_"Ah yes. Severus. What about him, Wormtail?"_

_"He…he is saying…"_

_"Get on with it, you fool!"_

_"Master, he is saying that it is too soon, that we should be trying for smaller targets first, Wizards…"_

_"The fool! Is he frightened?"_

_"I don't think so master."_

_"You don't think. I do the thinking here."_

_"Yes master."_

_"Well, what to do about faithful Severus… What do you think, Wormtail?"_

_This seemed to confuse Wormtail considerably. In the same minute he'd been told both not to think, and then asked for his opinion._

_"Master… you said I wasn't to think…_

_"Did I say that?"_

_"Yes, master…"_

_"Crucio."_

_The air was suddenly full of Wormtail's screams. When the curse was released, he got to his knees, still trembling._

_"I know what to do about my little lie spreader. Send some useless incompetent out to kill him."_

_Wormtail looked up hopefully, despite the aches that must have been wracking his body. _

_"Of course, they'll probably die in the attempt…"_

_"You mean not to kill him master?"_

_"Not in the least, Wormtail. But it will make him wary enough to stop spreading poisoned ideas among my Death Eaters."_

_"What if the assassin succeeds, master?"_

_"Then that's too bad. I can't have doubtful feeling among my servants. See to it."_

_"Yes, master."_

_Harry felt that familiar pulling sensation, and he_

Sat up in bed.

Oh brilliant. The only good thing about that dream was that no one had died. Not that Harry would have minded, considering the subjects…

Send someone out to kill him.

Oh great. Snape's life was under threat. Just what he always wanted, but Dumbledore needed him. Really, really great. 

Harry had long since given up asking the question, 'Why me?' at every turn, because there didn't seem to be an answer, but he said it aloud then anyway, just to make him feel better. 

_"Why you what?"_

_"Did I say that in Parseltongue?"_

_"Evidently."_

_"What am I going to do, Sleeve?"_

_"Hopefully, you'll grow up have eggs and then die. That's what usually happens, isn't it?"_

_"Humans don't lay eggs, Sleeve."_

"Don't they? How fascinating."

Harry shook his head and automatically reached over on his bedside table for his glasses before he remembered that they were still in a pocket in his jacket and where likely to stay there for the rest of the life of either the glasses or the jacket.

It was weird not having them on, but he knew he'd get used to it after a while, and started to get dressed. As he pulled his robes over his head he mulled over his predicament.

The obvious answer was to go straight down to Snape's rooms now and tell him. Harry didn't doubt that he could find them with the Marauder's Map now at hand again.

The chances were, however, that Snape would be asleep, and would probably curse him into a thousand pieces for coming into his room at five o'clock in the morning. 

He didn't want to get killed _before_ term started, thanks. 

Another course of action would be to wait until he could catch him in a corridor. But by then it might be too late, and Snape would _still _curse him into a thousand pieces.

The only thing to do, it seemed, was to tell him at breakfast, which the Potions Professor would be attending, for a change. 

Harry didn't want the other teachers to hear what he was going to say, but he didn't want to be slaughtered, either.

He decided to make sure, just to be on the safe side. He had plenty of time on his hands. He smiled at the almost pun as he looked at his palm. 

He decided against using the blue book. He didn't need this particular conversation to be recorded, and writing took so _long…_

'Sirius?'

'Harry? What's up?'

'Well-'

'It's five o'clock.'

'So?'

'I thought you'd got your powers straight?'

'I have. Sort of.'

'It's amazing, Harry.'

'So I hear.'

'So what's up? I was just waking up from a beautiful sleep there.'

'You were wide awake, weren't you?'

'Er… yeah.'

'Well, I had this dream.'

'One of 'those'?'

'Yes, but no one died.'

'Oh well that makes it perfectly fine then.'

'Be serious, will you?'

'I am, that's what I keep telling you people! So, this dream...?'

Harry then proceeded to tell his Godfather everything, cunningly exaggerating the effects of the Cruciatus curse to make Sirius forget about being tired and start seething. 

Cruel? Of course it was.

'Well, you're going to have to tell him, Harry.'

'You agree with me, then.'

'Yes. Despite how much I loathe him, he's necessary in Dumbledore's plan. Though I didn't know about the whole Death Eater charade though. Thanks for that information.'

'I bet Dumbledore wasn't going to tell you.'

'Too right. Anyway, I defiantly would not advise you telling him without company. Otherwise you'll probably end up a by-product of death by Snape.'

'That thought had crossed my mind.'

'You-know-who seems confident that Snape'll survive it, but it's likely that he'll get a scare. As much as I think he deserves it, I think he'd appreciate you telling him.'

'Do you really?'

'Well, he would if he was human.'

'Thanks a lot, Sirius.'

'You're welcome. How's Remus?'

'He's fine. You should see his room.'

'And Alula?'

'She's fine too. She was happy to see Remus, though.'

There was a pause.

'Sirius – Remus told me. About you and Wendy.'

'Why the hell did he go and tell you that?'

'Wendy asked him to. I think it's nice that at least someone wants me to know things.'

'I'm sorry for not telling you before, Harry.'

'But why didn't you?'

Harry hoped he wasn't out of his depth. He didn't know his Godfather well enough to judge when he was being pushed too far.

'Because – because I guess – I'm ashamed. I – I ruined her life, when she could have been the most powerful and respected witch and auror living. I reduced her to a hideaway in a foreign country, with no friends and no family anywhere near her. I did all that.'

'Nope. Voldemort did all that.'

'You keep telling yourself that, Harry. I've got a lot of things to put right, and a lot of people to repay. I'll do it all in time.'

'If she'll give you the chance.'

Another pause.

'Does she really hate me that much?'

'She hasn't told anyone about your animagus form, if that's any help.'

'She hates me.'

'Yeah.'

'What am I going to do?'

'You'll do it. At least you don't have to tell Snape that he's about to be assassinated. I am not Voldie's messenger boy, thank you very much.'

'You'll do fine, Harry. You'll do just like your father, and you'll be fine.'

And then he was gone. 

Harry wondered why people always expected him to be like his father. He didn't want to be too much like his father. Especially when it got down to the dead part. 

A lot later, Harry made his way down to the entrance hall in a snug snakeskin. Sleeve had at least been impressed – the second time. The first time had been an utter disaster. He'd looked like a run over pencil. 

Now though, the shape was perfect. His scales flashed in the sunlight from the windows and he had to resist the urge to bask in it's rays. 

Every time a teacher appeared, Harry resumed the cat form out of sight, just to keep in practice. 

He'd purr appreciatively at them and then race ahead before they could catch him. Then, once out of sight again, he'd resume the black snake form, perfecting little details each time. 

"You know, I must have seen that cat about three times this morning," said Professor Sinistra thoughtfully, as Harry entered the Great Hall. "Keeps popping up everywhere."

"Funny," said Wendy. "I've never seen it."

"You were down here at about three o'clock in the morning," pointed out Professor Binns. "Not even a cat would be stupid enough to get up that early in this weather."

"Cats hunt all through the night, so there," said Wendy. "And they aren't stupid either."

Professor Binns looked slightly taken aback. Harry supposed he couldn't even remember the last time someone had said 'so there' to him.

Hagrid was not present, but Professor Snape was, looking sour at having to be up at this time in the morning. Everyone asked about Harry's glasses, and Harry explained very shortly that he didn't need them anymore. 

"Are we expecting any unusual mail for you this morning, Harry?" said Professor Sinistra, to change the subject. 

"I certainly hope so," said Wendy. 

Everyone looked up at her, shocked. She shrugged. 

"Well, it's been on alternate days so far, hasn't it? If we get one today, there won't be one tomorrow. I don't think anyone would want that on the first day of school."

Everyone else nodded, satisfied, but Harry couldn't help thinking that lord Voldemort would have thought of that. 

The guy was clever, Harry had to admit it. Ruthless and terrible, but clever. The worst kind of villain in any horror story. But this was real life. 

He was right. When the post arrived, everyone drew their wands, but only Hedwig alighted on Harry's shoulder, looking longingly at his bacon rinds, which he gave to her, only slightly relieved. He looked a little closer at Hedwig. Was there something different about her?

Snape had a letter too. Harry watched his expression carefully as he read it, but it didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary and there Harry's hopes of a way of bringing up the subject were dashed. 

Fortunately, Dumbledore came to the rescue as usual. 

"Are you out today, Severus?" he asked meaningfully, with a pointed look at the letter in Snape's hand.

"Most of the day, Headmaster," said Snape dryly. 

"I erm… wouldn't go if I were you, Professor," said Harry quickly.

Everyone's eyes swerved to look at him. 

"What do you mean, Potter?" Snape snapped.

"Well," Harry said, wondering how to phrase this, wishing he'd revised this part. 

Then he remembered a spell that could help him. He'd never tried it before, but it would be the simplest way of telling him without actually coming straight out and then getting blown to smithereens. 

This was meant to be used on other people. Harry was not one hundred per cent sure that it would work on himself – and he didn't want the other teachers, let alone Wendy, to see him struggling with an impossibility. 

"What do you mean, Harry?" asked Professor Dumbledore quietly. 

"I don't suppose you'd like me to tell you in private?" Harry asked Snape. It was his favourite option, but –

"We're all ears." There was a cold edge to Wendy's voice that was rarely present. 

It was that voice more than anything else that made Harry decide that it was worth trying. 

Concentrating hard on the dream, Harry moved his hand as if holding an invisible wand, and touched his forehead with a whispered: "Clarita."

It then seemed to everyone in the room that they were underground. The small sounds of air and footsteps echoed around them.

Harry deliberately did not let them in on what he could see. The memory – even just sounds and feelings – was hard to sustain. Any more and he might pass out. 

He was showing them his memory of the dream through sound. If he had been able to, he would have limited the spell so that only Snape could hear it, but his control over the spell was minimal as it was. 

Footsteps growing louder, the soft creak of a door –

_"Ah… Wormtail. So good to see you. Everything is according to plan?"_

_"Y…yes… My Lord."_

_"Liar. My senses tell me that something is worrying you. Let me in on your little secret, Wormtail."_

Harrry started to sweat. He forced his eyes open so that the image would remain inside his head – Wendy mustn't see Peter! – and looked around at the others as the dream continued for the second time.

Wendy, Flitwick and Dumbledore seemed to be the only ones with the faintest inkling of what he was doing. Still, they listened with rapt attention. The others all looked shocked at that hissing voice, that cringing whine…

Snape had sweat running down his face too, almost as if he knew what was coming next, eyes as cold and unrevealing as usual…

_"It is S…S…Snape, m…my lord…"_

_"Ah yes. Severus. What about him, Wormtail?"_

Wendy looked sharply up at Snape. So did several of the other teachers. Harry prayed they already knew about Snape's current occupation. Snape himself had shaking hands.

_"He…he is saying…"_

_"Get on with it, you fool!"_

_"Master, he is saying that it is too soon, that we should be trying for smaller targets first, Wizards…"_

_"The fool! Is he frightened?"_

_"I don't think so master."_

Wendy made a derisive noise at that. Snape looked up at her with a glare.

_"You don't think. I do the thinking here."_

_"Yes master."_

_"Well, what to do about faithful Severus… What do you think, Wormtail?"_

Silence at the staff table.

_"Master… you said I wasn't to think…_

_"Did I say that?"_

_"Yes, master…"_

_"Crucio."_

Harry slumped in his chair as the air rang with Wormtail's howls. When they stopped some people had their hands over their ears. It didn't help in the slightest to block out Voldemort's next words.

_"I know what to do about my little lie spreader. Send some useless incompetent out to kill him."_

Someone screamed. Harry was now holding on to that memory with all his strength unable to stop his own feelings of fear and pain passing on to the teachers. Snape jumped. Dumbledore frowned.

_"Of course, they'll probably die in the attempt…"_

_"You mean not to kill him master?"_

Baited breath…__

_"Not in the least, Wormtail. But it will make him wary enough to stop spreading poisoned ideas among my Death Eaters."_

_"What if the assassin succeeds, master?"_

_"Then that's too bad. I can't have doubtful feeling among my servants. See to it."_

"Yes, master."

Five, four, three, two, one…

The echoes ceased. Everyone felt a brief surge of Harry's relief before he pulled his memory back into himself, thanked it and told it never to obey him again.

Snape stood up without a word. He left his breakfast unfinished and swept out of the Great Hall.

"He didn't even say thank you," said Harry, back to his normal self but breathing heavily.

"_He's _trying to kill him?" said Professor McGonagall. Harry wondered vaguely why she was looking so shocked.

Before he could answer, however, he was enveloped in Wendy's small arms. 

"Harry! Don't you ever, ever scare me like that again!"

Harry jumped. 

"Please tell me you'd practiced that spell before!"

Harry tried not to look too guilty.

"Er.. if I say no, will you overreact?"

"I should be able to control myself."

"I practised it over and over until I had it right."

"I don't believe you."

"Your problem, not mine." Harry's breath returned to normal and he picked up his fork as if nothing had happened. He'd lost his appetite, however.

"And that happens every night?" said Professor Sprout. Her voice shook.

Harry looked up at her. It seemed to them all that there was a deadened look in his eyes. 

"That was a good one."

"A good one?" exclaimed Wendy.

"No one died." Harry was trying to make clear that he didn't want to talk about it, but Wendy was deliberately making that hard.

"Who's Wormtail?"

"His henchman. He does all the dirty work."

"It sounds familiar."

"Can't do," Harry lied. "This one's pretty new."

"Can you name all of You Know Who's supporters?" she asked. It seemed to be some kind of joke. 

Harry looked straight into her eyes. "Do you want them alphabetical?"

She looked shocked. "Then why on earth don't you? Turn them in?"

Harry glared at her. She didn't get it. She thought she knew everything, but she didn't know anything. 

He hissed it at her. "You don't know anything, do you?" It wasn't Parseltongue, but it had the same effect. Wendy stared at him in shock. 

He left his plate, pushed his chair back loudly and made his way in silence to the Gryffindor common room, knowing she'd follow him.

Wendy stared after him. "Was it something I said?"

Dumbledore sighed.

***************************************************

Harry waited for about ten minutes for his teacher to arrive, letting the after effects of the clear memory spell drain away. By the time they were all gone, he was feeling very sorry for what he had said, and Wendy was entering the room.

"Harry?"

"Hi." Then, before he lost his nerve, "look, I'm sorry about what I said. The spell was making me… angry. Just like… at anything."

"That's all right, Harry. Dumbledore explained to me about Fudge and the Ministry. They're all a bunch of dossers, aren't they?"

That made Harry smile a bit. "So… we're OK?"

"Yeah." She said it with the same amount of relief. "I'll see you later then?"

"Sure."

She left. Harry wondered what he was going to do now. Wendy had obviously gone to meet Remus – there are some things you just can't keep a secret – so there was no chance of meeting him.

He thought briefly of checking through all his homework, but that notion was dismissed in a second.

More Defence work? Please. He'd memorized every single word of those books and his head would explode if he tried to do it again. 

Animal? Whoops, he'd forgotten that. He picked up the dog-eared book on animal anatomy and behaviour and tried to focus on the owl page, but all he could think about was Snape.

Where was he? What was he doing? Was he going to walk right into the trap or avoid it somehow? 

Owls, owls, owls… Harry stared at the page until he thought his head would explode anyway. 

He threw the book across the common room, where it landed on an armchair, and transformed into the cat. 

Preoccupied as he was, he missed seeing the young lady headed his way on the second floor corridor until it was too late. 

_Damn. If forgot I can run faster than she can._

"Oh! Hello!" said Wendy. 

_If her eyes go googly I'll bite her._

Harry backed up into a sort of bow.

"Very well, thank you, My Lord," said Wendy with a curtsey.

_Eh?_

"So you're the one everyone was talking about at breakfast."

Harry shook himself in a sort of proud, 'be about your own business'. 

_Nosy parker._

She giggled. "You are noble, aren't you, My Lord?"

Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, now move along… 

She did in the end, after much stroking and idle conversation. 

When she had left with an offhand 'we'll see each other again, My Lord," (_not if I can help it)_ Harry sped off in the direction of the owlery. 

He transformed and entered the dark room. Hedwig swooped down softly when he called her name. 

He stroked her gently. "You wouldn't just flap up to where I can see you, would you?" Harry asked quietly.

She obliged, if a little puzzled, by flying gracefully upwards to one of the lower perches. Harry stood still, taking in all the tiny details of her body. 

He tried to remember all he had read in the book about the positions of the owl's insides. 

The pinfeathers… longer than that… 

He closed his eyes.

Hedwig squawked with fright. Standing below her was not her master, but a handsome, pure black owl. 

Hush, Hedwig. 

The snowy white owl cocked her head on one side. 

Harry flexed his wings. They were larger than he had expected, for some reason. He gave them an experimental flap, and he rose off the ground a couple of inches.

He squawked and fell back down onto the ground on his feathery behind. Hedwig opened her beak in mirth. 

You show me then, since you're so clever. 

Hedwig was only too glad. She gave him a sharp lesson on how to fly without a broomstick. Harry hadn't realised his owl was so critical. 

He soon learned to determine the difference between her noises of irritation and of praise. She conveyed more important items of conversation using images inside his head. 

Harry thought that this particular thing would have Muggle scientists tearing their hair out in frustration, if he could ever be bothered to tell them.

She grew increasingly impatient because he didn't understand that once you were up, you didn't need your wings except to get higher. You just had to lock them in place and let them carry you. 

If there was more wind, she seemed to be saying, you'd be able to soar properly.

Harry got the hang of it in the end, however. Hedwig showed him around the parts of the owlery that couldn't usually be reached. 

Harry wondered whether a real owl might find this more attractive. The bird muck and half eaten food everywhere made him feel rather sick. 

When they reached Hedwig's own perch, however, he got a surprise.

Hedwig! They're not yours, surely? 

Three large brown eggs sat in a circle inside a nest made of twigs, fluff and forest debris. Hedwig looked a little sheepish. 

No way! I mean, I'm happy for you, but who's the father? 

An image of a large, handsome brown owl with sparkling eyes.

_Flash? _

A squawk of impatience. 

All right, all right. Congratulations. 

By the time the tour was over, it was past noon. Harry thanked his owl, transformed, and ran downstairs on four paws. 

While thinking about Hedwig's eggs (_I ought to tell Remus about that) _he forgot once again to look where he was going.

"Good afternoon, My Lord," said Professor McGonagall. 

Oh brilliant. Now she's informed everyone of that stupid title. And I've missed lunch.

Harry lifted his head majestically and strode off.

"Do you know, Alula was right about you…" Professor McGonagall's voice faded into the distance. 

In the end, Harry scabbed some food off the house elves, who were incredibly pleased to see him and all congratulated him on his reformation of Dobby.

"Reformation?" asked Harry incredulously. 

"He is being very good, sir!" piped up one of the house elves. "He is working now, even on his…" she shivered. "Day off."

"Why?" said Harry, though he had his suspicions. 

"I is not knowing, sir. Dobby is not telling us, sir."

All the same, Harry got a good lunch from them, warned them that Madam Pomfrey might be paying them a visit to check that he had been fed, and made his way to the Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom. 

******************************************

"Today we're switching roles."

Harry felt a surge of excitement. 

It must have shown on his face, because Wendy sighed. "I'm not looking forward to it myself, but you need the practice."

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you too badly," Harry said with an evil smile on his face to rival Wendy's own. 

"That's what I'm afraid of." She ducked her head, whipped out her wand and clothed herself in the traditional black robes. 

Harry was in combat robes before she could blink. 

She glared at him. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

A shield flew into place around her – but it was blue. Weird.

 "I am your clay!" said Wendy's voice from behind the sky like expanse. "Feel free to mould me into grotesque shapes!"

Harry certainly did his best. He sent curse after curse at the shield without repeating himself, dispelling it each time and causing Wendy to create a new one. 

After a while he grew fed up and threw two at her at the same time, one with his wand, the other with his left hand. 

The combined result blew the last shield up and levitated his teacher upside down, revealing old jeans and a frown. 

"Thanks a bundle. I bet you enjoyed that."

"No, not really. It's no fun when you're not fighting back. It isn't fair."

"Well done."

"Well done what?"

"You passed."

"I didn't know there was a test!"

"It was something other than whether you can cast a curse or not. You had to do it without enjoying it. No one on the light side should take pleasure in attacking someone who can not defend themselves."

"That sort of killed the evening," said Harry, after a brief pause. 

Remus came in then. "I've been looking for you," he said to Harry. 

"Where else would I be?" said Harry, just as Wendy said,

"You shouldn't get into the habit of wandering around. What if a student saw you?"

"There aren't any students yet, Wendy," said Remus with a smile that said 'not that it matters'.

"What did you want me for?" said Harry.

"Tell me about your animal."

"His what?"

"It's a project he's doing," said Remus with a shrug. "he has to tell me in detail about a different animal each day."

Wendy looked at him as if trying to read his mind. "He's not going to… you know…"

"Of course not. He's too young."

"Si – _he _was only fifteen when he did it."

"He was an idiot. Harry's better than that."

Harry knew that Remus was making it up but it hurt to hear what Remus might have thought about Sirius before he learned the truth. 

And the way they were talking about just him told Harry that Wendy didn't know about Peter and his father. 

Oh well. It made everything just a bit easier. 

Harry then proceeded to recite everything about the owl. It took a while, because Harry was taking his information from his transformation, not from the textbook. 

When he had finished, he dropped the bombshell.

"Hedwig and Flash's _what?_" exclaimed Remus. 

"Eggs," Harry repeated. "do you want one?"

"Just one, if that's all right."

"Sure. I don't think I could raise three more, anyway."

"Baby owls?" said Wendy in a choked voice. "How wonderful!"

Harry stood embarrassed. "It happens every day."

"Yes, but little baby ones!"

Remus shot Harry a look that said 'women.'

"Er… would you like one?"

 "Oh Harry!" Wendy hugged him. "Do you mean it?"

"Sure. Like I said, I can't raise three more."

"But you must keep the third one for yourself. Don't you dare give it away to anyone at all."

Harry could see her point, if for the wrong reasons. She had sentimental views, Harry just knew that Hedwig would never forgive him if he gave all her babies away. 

He went back up to the owlery in the evening to see Hedwig's eggs again. Just to make sure he hadn't been making it up inside his head. 

Hedwig was happy to see him as soon as he transformed. Her squawks and thoughts seemed to say, 'if you can be an owl, why bother being a human at all?'

After he'd spent as much time as Hedwig would let him looking at her potential offspring, he asked her whether she'd like to fly with him, with the utmost courtesy.

She agreed gracefully, and together they soared off into the sky.

It was already dark, but the sky was clear and they flew together over the trees of the forest and over Hagrid's cabin. 

Harry then led Hedwig over to the huge main gate of Hogwarts, and they flew over it, Harry using his owl sight to try and spy out the horseless carriages that were due at any moment along the track to Hogwarts. 

When the first one came into view, Harry let Hedwig show him how to swoop gently downwards to watch them crunch along the stony path. 

A few people stuck their heads out of the windows to look at the stark white owl and the barely visible black one. Harry waited patiently, until he heard:

"Look Ron! That's Hedwig!"

"Hedwig! Over here!"

Harry swooped – very fast – with the wind to land with a bump on Hermione's lap. 

Hedwig settled much more gracefully on Ron's shoulder. 

"How's Harry, Hedwig?" said Ron quickly, as though she could answer. "Who's your friend?"

"He's beautiful," said Hermione, running a hand over Harry's feathers. 

"is he black?"

"What does it look like to you?"

"I didn't know you got black owls."

"Well, this one is." Hermione sighed heavily and leant back on the seat. "I wonder if Harry's all right?"

"Hermione, that's the fifth time you've said that since we left King's Cross. I've been counting."

"Well I'm worried about him. It was that bad."

"Well, once we get in there, don't mention it, Ok? Just act like nothing's happened."

"Do you reckon that'll work?"

"Nah, he'll see through it right away. But we can only try."

Harry didn't need to hear anymore. He hooted to Hedwig and they flew out of the window again and back to the castle.

Harry ran down the stairs two at a time, waving a hand so that his green combat robes he still hadn't changed out of quickly became his school ones.  

It was cheating, but he wanted to make it back to the Entrance Hall before Professor McGonagall did. He also wanted to beat Peeves, who'd been remarkably quiet all week and was probably planning something. 

He made it down the last staircase just as there was a knock on the door. He turned the key, flung open the door, and –

"HARRY!" 

He was set upon.

"Hermione! Get off!" 

"Sorry! Are you OK? I've been worrying about you the whole time…"

"So much for being discreet," said a voice from behind her as the whole school filed in around them, watching.

"Hey, Ron." He shook hands with his friend just as a huffing puffing Professor McGonagall rounded the corner. 

"I see you opened the door," she said disapprovingly. 

"You wouldn't have just left them out there?" asked Harry, innocently. 

"You made a specific attempt to get down here before I did, young man, and don't try to deny it."

"Ok. I won't."

Professor McGonagall shook her head and waved the whole school on. "In you get now, quickly, before the first years arrive."

"How've you been, Harry?" said Ron, red hair standing out against his black robes as they filed into the Great Hall and sat down at the only recently assembled house tables. 

Harry noticed that his chair at the staff table had been removed. He wasn't too sure how he felt about that. 

As they sat down, Harry grinned wider than he had all summer and said "Great, Ron. Just great."

"What about these then, eh?" said Ron, plucking at his prefect badge, which looked very out of place. "It's been hell at home ever since I got my letter."

"Where's yours then, Harry?" said Hermione, who was wearing her own on the most visible place possible on her robes. "You were on the list of Prefects."

"In my pocket," Harry lied, and brought it out. It had lived a much simpler life as a paper clip only a second previously. He'd have to exchange it for the real one when someone wasn't looking.

** Ok, now you know why it took me such a long time. The chapter was meant to be half this length! Did you like it? You know how to let me know…

Here be thanks:

Skahducky

Wingweaver

Kateydidnt

Ranger

french flunkie

Liedral

Jordan

Shdurrani

Maverickgean

AllAboutMe

Gotta Luv Pippin

Vanessa

Syd

Chanzo654

D.S. Moony

Lady FoxFire

Gara

Sabrina

Mystic Queen

Sky Chief

Angel Baby

John

AllieSkittlez

lover of the Dragon

shinystars007

Evil Willow

Joanna

Sarah Powdrill

Miss-Sexy-Ass-Kicker

Ashley

Karen

Tiger Lily

the Queen of Fire and Ice

Amity

Lani Lathron

Autumn Dreams

Bumblebee Bucy 

Immortal Rose

Ivette Jamaya

august wynd

Lanfear

Centra-gal86 

Nova

Young Phoenix

K. H. T

Lady Russell Holmes

Darienetta Stoke

**Thanks everyone! Don't ask about the French exams, I bet I failed the lot, but half term is coming up so I will probably post then if not before. Wicked! **


	13. We demand an explanation!

**Hello all! Half term – YAY! I might even get more than one chapter up this week. Won't that be a novelty? 

Anyway I thought I should warn you that this chapter will not be particularly exciting, because it is mainly just Harry's explanations to Ron and Hermione about what is going on at Hogwarts, and decisions about the new year.

However there are a couple of new twists that you don't want to miss!! Aren't I one for the ever-complicated plot line…?

Oh yeah and thanks to everyone who said good luck for my French exams. I didn't have to worry cause I did really well and nearly fainted!! Ahem. On with the story. **

The Quidditch team came and plonked themselves around Harry, Ron and Hermione. 

"How you doing, mate?" said George.

"Did you get any practice in?" asked Angelina.  

"A bit," said Harry.

"A bit?" said Katie Bell. "What were you doing the whole time?"

"You said something about extra lessons?" said Ron, interested. 

"Yeah," said Harry. 

"Were they with the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Hermione asked eagerly. 

"Hermione, why is that always the first thing you worry about when we get to school?"

"It's _not, _Ron," said Hermione. "Go on then, Harry, what's he like?"

"She," Harry corrected. 

"_She_?" said Fred, incredulously. 

"Why not?" said Hermione, hotly. 

"Is she a banshee?" Dean Thomas asked, as eager as Hermione.

"Of course not," said Harry. "She's OK."

"Just OK?" said Ron with raised eyebrows. 

"Ron!" said Harry, and punched him on the shoulder. 

"Hey!" said Ron. He seemed surprise at the weakness of his friend's blow, but said nothing of it.

"Where is she then?" said Neville, raising himself off his seat slightly and craning his neck to see the staff table. "I don't see her."

Harry made a face. "She's probably upstairs preparing a dramatic entrance. She's like that."

"Snape's not there, either," said Neville, sitting down.

"Where do you reckon he's got to?" said Hermione.

"Obvious, isn't it?" said Ron. "He's concocting even more gruesome ways to make our lives even more of a misery this year."

Harry felt a knife churn in his stomach. Where was Snape? If something had happened…

"Oh shut up," said Hermione, but she was smiling. She looked up to the starry sky of the ceiling happily. "It's good to be back."

"O.W.L.s this year, Hermione," teased Ron. "Better start revising now."

She stuck out her tongue at him, just as the door opened and a load of frightened looking first years piled in, led by Professor McGonagall, who had a list in one hand, and the Hogwarts sorting hat in the other.

She fetched the stool from a corner, put the hat on it and stood back.

Everyone waited in silence until the tear near the rim opened and the hat broke into song:

_"A merry eve, to one and all, _

_A brand new year I spy._

_A throng of brand new students_

_Do also catch my eye._

_My rim is frayed and torn with age, _

_My patches failing too,_

_But I'm the Hogwarts sorting hat,_

_And I will sort you true. _

_Which home, which house, which room, which bed?_

_From where your minds will grow,_

_I'll have a look inside your head_

_And see where you will go._

_If you've a loyal caring soul_

_Then Hufflepuff is where you'll stay_

_If you know how to reach your goal_

_Then Slytherin's the smarter way_

_I you have cleverness and tact_

_Then Ravenclaw is what I see_

_If your are brave and quick to act_

_Then Gryffindor's the choice for me._

_Pull me tight around your head_

_I'll shout it way out loud._

_And off you go, to work, to learn_

_And do your houses proud._

_Desires, secrets, feelings, thoughts_

_Inside your head, this hat, are held_

_And then with G, R, S or H,_

_Your house's name is spelled."_

There was a pause, and then the whole room started clapping and cheering as Professor McGonagall unfolded her roll of parchment. 

She had to wait a few minutes before it was possible for her to be heard, frowning deeply at the students until they quietened down. 

"Appleton, Holly!"

The small girl with a chubby face came forward onto the stool and pulled the hat onto her head. No sooner had she done so, the hat yelled out for the whole hall to hear,

"Hufflepuff!"

The table burst into applause as Holly Appleton sat down on the nearest empty bit of bench. 

Harry watched the Hufflepuffs greeting her, until – 

"Avery, Simon!"

Harry looked up with a curse on his lips. 

"What is it?" whispered Hermione.

Harry couldn't answer, because Avery had put on the hat, and the hat screamed:

"SLYTHERIN!"

And the next table along clapped enthusiastically.

"We'll have to watch that one," said Harry quietly once the noise had died down.

Hermione and Ron looked like they wanted to ask more questions, but they didn't because "Birder, Isabelle!" had just been called to the stand.

They watched in silence while Isabelle was made a Ravenclaw, and a boy was made a Hufflepuff.

And then, Professor McGonagall called "Blake, Oliver!" the young man in question put the hat on his head, the hat called,

"Gryffindor!"

And it was their turn to cheer. 

The sorting commenced in normal fashion as more and more Gryffindors joined the table to make up for the absent 7th year of the year before, and Harry greeted them with everyone else. 

"Pordell, Sarah," called Professor McGonagall. 

Harry felt something clang in his chest as he watched Sarah sit on the stool. Where had he seen her, or someone like her, before?

She was short, with light brown skin and longish black hair in plaits over each shoulder. Unlike the other first years, she did not look frightened. She looked sad. 

The hat took almost a full minute to decide. And then – 

"Gryffindor!" almost casually.

Harry clapped a little, but he was intent on watching the girl as she sat down. She didn't smile; she just politely returned people's handshakes as she sat down on the other end of the table. 

There Harry lost his view of her. Damn. 

He hardly concentrated on the rest of the sorting, even when "Weasley, Juliet!" was sorted into Gryffindor. Ginny hugged her as she sat down. 

"My cousin," Ron explained sullenly. "She's _awful_, especially when she and Ginny get together. How am I going to survive this year?"

Then Dumbledore stood up. 

"I will not say much," he said. "Because I know that you are all happily anticipating your dinner!"

"He's got that right," said Fred and George, together. 

"But I do have a few things to say to you," continued the Headmaster. "First of all, we only have one new member of staff this year, but she appears to have been detained, so –"

The doors flew open with a crash. A few people screamed. 

Wendy stood in the doorway, a big trademark grin on her face. "Good evening," she said cheerfully. "Sorry I'm late."

"Quite all right," said Dumbledore, and then to the school, he added, "I have great pleasure in introducing you to our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Little!"

Everyone clapped, except the Slytherins, but that was understandable. 

Ron wasn't' clapping. He was staring at Professor Little, mouth wide open. 

Hermione dug him in the side.

"Ow!"

"Well stop staring at her like a hungry dog."

"I'm not!"

"Well, you were."

Ron ignored her and went back to staring at Wendy as she joined the staff table. 

"Ron, what is the matter with-?"

"Furthermore." Dumbledore went on, "I would like to remind you all that the forbidden forest is out of bounds, no magic in the corridors, etcetera, etcetera."

A few people laughed.

"But on a slightly more serious note," said Dumbledore, his expression growing grim, "I am sure that you have all heard of the attacks over this summer."

There were mumblings around the hall, and Harry thought his heart might have stopped. 

"I must tell you that even though you are at Hogwarts, your safety is not assured if you care to wander outside of the school. Please, for your own safety, stay inside the school grounds unless given express permission to leave.

"I know that many of you will have experience some kind of hardship already over the last two months, or before," he went on. "Family or friends whisked away by the Dark Powers. You are safe here, but please, be on your guard. Do not talk to anyone you do not know; do not follow anyone you do not trust entirely. Thank you."

Dumbledore sat down. No one clapped.

There were whisperings down one end of the Gryffindor table as Dumbledore sat back down. 

"What is it?" Alicia Spinnet, chaser for the Gryffindor team, whispered to a third year nearer the disturbance. 

"It's that new girl, Sarah Pordell or whatever her name is," said the boy. "She's crying."

No one questioned any further, because at that point the food arrived. 

Hermione loaded both Harry and Ron's plates before they could argue. 

"Eat your vegetables, they're good for you," she said firmly.

Harry laughed. It certainly was good to have them back.

Later, while they were all still tucking in furiously, except Harry, who'd reached the picking stage by now, Hermione said:

"What was up with you back then, Ron?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Ron, taking a big swig of pumpkin juice. 

"Oh yes you do. Why were you staring at Professor Little like that? You cant' tell me _she's _a Veela! Look at her hair."

"I _was_ looking," said Ron with a dreamy expression on his face. 

"Oh Ron, you're hopeless," said Hermione.

"Harry," Ron said quickly. "We saw Hedwig on the way up to the castle."

"Yeah…" said Harry, knowing what was coming.

"Well, she had this black one with her."

"Yes!" said Hermione. "It was gorgeous."

_Gee, thanks, Hermione. I didn't know you cared. _

"A black what?"

"Owl, you dunce."

"A black owl? Oh… right. That's erm…" He put his hand in his pocket for inspiration. "Quill. Yeah."

"Quill?" said Hermione.

"Yeah."

"Who does he belong to?" asked Ron. "I've never seen him before."

"Er… "

"Harry, if you know its name, you have to know who he belongs to."

"I… just don't want to say it here, Ok?"

"All right," said Ron, but he looked just as puzzled. 

"I'll tell you later. It's one of _those_ things."

"Ah. Well that explains _everything_," said Ron, and rolled his eyes.  

"Are Quill and Hedwig courting?" asked Hermione, interested.

"Hermione!" said Ron. 

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No," said Harry. "But Hedwig and Flash are."

"What?"

"Just what I said."

"How do you know?"

"Hedwig's got eggs."

_"EGGS?"_

"Whose eggs?" said George, looking up from his food with gravy all round his mouth.

"Doesn't matter," said Ron quickly.

"Don't yell it then," said George.  

"Has she really, Harry?" asked Hermione. 

Harry nodded. "Three."

"Oh brilliant!" then she became thoughtful. "Maybe Quill could court Madeline…"

Er… no thanks actually. Madeline's ok, but I really don't want to father a nest full of baby owls thanks all the same.

Ron shot Harry the 'women' look, and Harry laughed out loud. The situation was so like the one he'd been in that morning that he couldn't really do anything else. 

"Harry," said Hermione when he'd stopped laughing. "I've just realised something."

"Yeah?"

"You're not using your glasses."

"Oh, well spotted."

"No I mean, you're really not using them. Sometimes you just don't wear them but you always squint at things. You don't need them anymore, do you?"

"So?"

"Harry, that kind of thing doesn't happen in a week."

"It's a long story."

"We've got time."

"I'll tell you later."

"Looks like it's going to be an interesting discussion," muttered Ron in Harry's ear. Hermione had her studying face on.

Later, when the dessert arrived (of which Harry couldn't eat a single bite) someone broached the subject of the new keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. 

"The captain issue is no problem," said Fred confidently. "Angelina was vice-captain, so she has to do Oliver's job until she finds someone else mad enough to do it."

"Thanks a lot Fred," said Angelina, aiming a whack at the back of his head, which he ducked. 

"But we still need a new Keeper," said Katie. "Any ideas?"

"There's a third year that isn't bad," said Angelina. "Kate something. I'll look into it."

"What about a new vice-captain, if Angelina's moved up?" said Harry. 

"YOU!" said all the other members of the team.

Harry stared at them. "Why me?"

"I'm certainly not doing it," said Katie. 

"No way," said Alicia. 

"As if," said Fred and George in unison. 

"But I'm youngest!"

"So? Three years ago we didn't even have any sixth or seventh year players, remember?" said Fred.

"Oliver was captain then, in his fifth year, and he was captain the year before that, when Paul was Seeker," said George.

"Oliver was Quidditch _captain_ in his _forth _year?" exclaimed Hermione.

"Yep," said Alicia. "We got pounded by the Slytherins that year."

Harry felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. 

"No need to look so worried Harry," said Katie. "The chances of Angelina getting mortally injured are about ten million to one."

Everyone else laughed, and all too soon the plates were clean, the food was gone, and Dumbledore was standing up.

"An excellent start to the year," said the Headmaster. "Now, off you trot."

"Let's avoid Malfoy," said Ron. "We had a bit of an unpleasant run in on the train."

"My pleasure," said Harry.

The sixth and seventh year prefects led the Gryffindor first years out of the door.

They waited until all the Slytherins had already gone out of the door. Just as they themselves were about to leave, they heard:

"Harry! Just a second!"

Harry turned. So did Ron and Hermione. 

It was Wendy, sauntering down the aisle to meet them. "I just wanted to meet your friends," she said loudly. Then she lowered her voice so that only they could hear,

"You haven't seen Snape, have you?"

Hermione looked taken aback, Ron was gaping again. Harry knew precisely what she meant. 

"Not since this morning. Do you reckon he'll make it back all right?"

"Of course he will. He always shows up eventually, like a bad penny. Only I'm still worried."

"I know. Me too, in a weird sort of way."

"If he isn't here by tomorrow, even Dumbledore will be worried," said Wendy. 

She raised her voice again. "So you must be Ron and Hermione. I've heard a lot about you."

"Yes," said Hermione, stepping on Ron's foot heavily. 

"Er… right, yeah."

"I look forward to teaching you," said Wendy. She started to walk away, but then she looked back at Harry. 

"And once again, well done for passing the test."

She left. Harry took a deep breath, then turned around to face his friends. They both had their arms folded.

"All right, Harry. You've got some explaining to do."

*************************************************************************

"And that happens _every _night?" 

"Along those lines. Usually it's worse. Rarely it's better. Some nights when nothing important is going on it doesn't happen at all."

Harry leant back in his chair and watched his two best friends ponder over everything he had said. 

It was now almost midnight, and most of the other students had gone to bed. Had Harry, Ron and Hermione not been prefects, they would not have been allowed to stay up. 

It seemed that even Ron was starting to see the advantages of their new station, though he didn't say as much.

"Right," Ron said finally. "Let me get this straight. Our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is really Sirius' twin sister and has been hiding from the ministry in Poland for the last fourteen years. She's also one of the best Aurors the wizarding world has ever seen, and she's been teaching you extra Defence, Charms and Transfiguration."

"That's what they tell me," said Harry.

"You're not using your glasses anymore because of a form of Defence that we're learning about early this year so you don't have to explain it. The black owl we saw this evening belongs to Sirius."

Harry smiled inwardly. He'd made up that lie on the spur of the moment. It was quite a good one, considering he told Sirius about 'Quill' before someone else asked him about it. 

"Remus Lupin is now hiding in rooms on the other side of the castle and we can't tell anyone or he'll be kicked out."

Harry nodded.

"Our Potions master is vitally important to us because he's pretending to be a Death Eater on Dumbledore's orders and is now our only living link to You-Know-Who, and his life is hanging by a thread.  We know this because you found out through one of those visions or dreams or whatever you call them."

"That sounds about right," said Harry.

"And we're all Prefects and Harry's vice captain of the Quidditch team," Ron said finally. "Looks like it'll be an interesting year."

And that isn't all, thought Harry. 

He couldn't tell them everything, so he'd cunningly skimmed over certain areas, and not even approached others. 

Hermione would explode if she found out that he was now able to pass his N.E.W.T.s in three subjects with top marks. 

He also didn't tell them about that other little thing that had happened since he'd arrived at Hogwarts. 

Fortunately neither of them guessed the perfectly likely fact that he might now be able to turn into a snake, a cat or an owl, and many more besides, once he got the permission. 

They didn't' really need to know that yet.

Who are you kidding? Harry asked himself. You just want a couple of secrets to yourself.

Or are you afraid? Said another voice in his mind. Are you afraid of what might happen to them if they knew? Are you scared of someone needing them for that information?

Of course I am, said the first part of his voice. But mainly I just want a couple of secrets. Hermione's not stupid. She'll find out soon anyway.

But his mind was still unsettled. 

Remus and Sirius told me, said the first voice firmly. They told me I mustn't tell. 

"Well, I've taken in more than I can stand already tonight," said Hermione, getting up and stretching. "I don't' know about you two, but I'm going to bed."

"Yeah," said Ron. "It's past midnight. See you, Hermione."

"Mmm," said Hermione, her voice muffled with tiredness. She started to climb the girl's staircase that led two the dormitories, but she stopped suddenly. 

"Can you hear something?" she whispered. Harry got up and stood beside her. Ron followed. 

Harry _could_ hear something. It was a faint, snuffling sound that seemed to be coming from the direction of the girls' dormitories. 

"Sounds like crying," said Ron.

"There was a first year crying at dinner," said Harry. "Maybe it's her."

"Wasn't that Sarah Pordell?" asked Ron.

"Yeah, think so."

"It probably is her then."

"How come?" said Harry.

"Don't you -? Oh of course, you wouldn't know. Her parents were very useful Aurors during You-Know-Who's rise to power," said Ron, very quietly. "They were both killed about six weeks ago."

"And she still came to _school?" exclaimed Hermione in a horrified whisper._

Ron shrugged. "Prob'ly better than staying at home without them. I know I'd rather be here."

Hermione shook her head and climbed slowly up the staircase. Ron was just starting to climb the boys' one when he realised his friend was not following him.

"Harry?"

Harry stood stock-still. He had known. Why hadn't he remembered?

 "I _knew_ it," he said softly. "I knew I'd seen her somewhere before."

"What?"

"She looks just like her mother. That's why I recognised her."

Harry fought to keep his voice and his stomach calm. Now was not a good time to be sick, especially after all that food. Madam Pomfrey would skin him. 

"Harry," Ron said. He sounded just like Harry felt. "How do you know what Mrs. Pordell looked like?"

"Both of them, Ron," said Harry, still unable to move from shock. "I saw both of them. I watched it. It was on a farm somewhere, no one even heard them scream…"

_Would you rather freeze to death…?_

Ron was looking scared now, backing away towards the staircase. "Harry?"

Harry shook his head firmly. It was bad enough him having nightmares about the deaths of first years' parents, he didn't have to bring that upon his friends as well. 

"C'mon," he said through his teeth. "Let's go." 

Ron led the way up the staircase. When they reached the dormitory, Harry looked around and saw the lumps that were Neville, Dean and Seamus underneath the covers of their four posters, the curtains still tied back. 

The two of them tumbled into bed. Harry thought he heard Ron mutter, "I knew it was a good idea."

"What was a good idea?" Harry whispered. There was no answer. Either Ron was asleep or he was avoiding the question. 

Harry climbed in between his sheets after removing the warming pans. He knew there was one thing he had to do before dozing off.

'Sirius?'

'What? Harry, you all right?'

'If anyone asks, you've got a black owl called Quill, Ok?'

'What's that supposed to mean?"

Sirius never got an answer.

Harry didn't even have time to wonder what had happened to Sleeve before he fell asleep.

**What did I tell you? Next chapter defiantly looks to be more promising. Sorry for boring you.

Here be thanks:

Dominey: did you press the button eight times by accident or for fun? Oh well. Sorry about chapter ten. Maybe I'll come to your funeral if this isn't in time to save your life. 

Kat: I wouldn't think of not having a Sirius/Wendy reunion. I'm just not sure how to do it yet…

Windswift

Fiddy

Ranger

Centra-gal86

Katani Petitedra

Gotta Luv Pippin

Sabrina: Harry's journal is currently a mystery to the whole world, including me… Not really! I do have a plan, I swear!

Bumblebee Bucy: !!!!! To you too! Thanks for your review.

Ivette Jamaya

Bananafanayou

AllAboutMe

Jordan: Sleeve, good quesssssstion. Looks like you'll have to wait till next time, doesn't it? He he I'm so evil.

Ernie Prang : You're funny! Thanks for your review!

Lady Russell Holmes: I know. I'm like Harry, I LOVE secrets…

Karen

Suna

Temporary Insanity: You are right. I too think it is time for some Trelawny torture

Schulyr

Serpentina

chanzo654

Silent dragon 

Skahducky: ah poor Remus, eh? He'll probably get bored after a while… he he he….

august wynd

AllieSkittllez 

lover of the Dragon

Jen

Evil Willow

shinystars007 

Lanfear: Bah hate French

Nova

Darienetta Stoke

the Queen of Fire and Ice

That's it. Oh, yeah, hopefully you can expect another update this week, since I'm not doing anything else. HALF TERM RULES!!! 

Love,

Laterose. **


	14. Hatemail from Hell, or rather, Devon, an...

**Hello all! Sorry once again for that boring instalment. From now on I'll try not to do that. My hands are a little frozen so typing is abnormally difficult. I hate this cursed weather. Anyway…. 

Sorry it took longer than even I expected – I spent a whole day designing the cover for the fifth Harry Potter book for a competition, then the next day with a friend. Oh well. It's better than usual.

Running for my life

And never looking back

In case there's someone right behind 

To shoot me down

And say he always knew I'd fall…

_Chess _ 

This chapter has mild action. I HATE having to wait for action scenes, even if I'm not 100% brilliant at them. Should be good though. 

Let me know if you want to be on the mailing list and bla bla bla…**

It was before he had started his diary. That was the first thought that struck his mind. The second was that it meant that it was the first day back. 

_He watched himself get out of the car that had just parked itself in the driveway of Number 4, Privet drive._

_He watched the man get out of the driver's seat and push the black haired boy trying to open the boot of the car into the garage wall. _

_He saw the shock on his own face at the blow, just as the man told him, "You get inside. I'll handle your things."_

_The way he said 'things' made his Hogwarts trunk sound like something a dog had done in the street. _

_"That's all right, Uncle," Harry heard himself say. _

_The beefy man gave him another, barely distinguishable push into the garage out of anyone's sight. The easiness of it seemed to give him confidence. _

_The shade of Harry stood by the door, watching his past self let his uncle push him up against the other car that stood gleaming beside the gardening tools. _

_"I asked you to get inside," Vernon Dursely growled, their faces barely an inch apart. He grabbed his nephew by the collar of his too-large jumper and raised him off the ground. _

_The boy fumbled in his pockets, but there was nothing there. His wand was in his trunk. _

_"Now, do it." The man dropped Harry's past self and he fled, grabbing Hedwig's cage off the ground as he ran. _

_The owl squawked at the sudden movement as Harry flung open the front door and ran inside. _

_The shade of Harry's present self walked through the closed front door. He didn't' want to, but he did anyway. He walked up the stairs after the back of his past self. _

_He remembered this. Why was he seeing it all again?_

_Harry set the cage with Hedwig in it on the table and looked around. _

_The room was bare, stripped of practically everything that had been there before, except the furniture, and there were signs that the bars on the windows would be back when Uncle Vernon got round to inserting them in the holes in the window frame._

_The stairs creaked, and the two Harrys turned around as one. _

_Uncle Vernon stood in the doorway. _

_"Where are my school things?" the past Harry asked._

_Uncle Vernon's answer was to pick him up one-handed and throw him into the bed. He toppled over backwards and lay still. _

_The Harry shade stood by the desk, unable to cover his eyes. _

_"Now you see here," said Uncle Vernon. "You aren't going anywhere for the rest of your miserable life, except to do chores for your Aunt Petunia. I don't care about your Godfather or any of that rot. No one has the proof that you have a legal guardian, so that leaves you to me."_

_Does he even care if I'm unconscious or not? Wondered Harry. _

_"You've lived in this house for fourteen years, and you haven't ever paid your way. Well, see here now boy. That's going to change. No work, then no food or water, is that understood?"_

_The boy lying on the other side of the bed made no sound. Harry remembered that this was because of disbelief, not concussion. _

_"IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?" roared Uncle Vernon._

_The next five minutes had been a blur of pain at the time, but now Harry saw clearly every kick, every punch, every slam into the wall._

I'm not fighting back, Harry realised. Even on that first day, I wasn't fighting back. 

Harry woke at the customary five o'clock in the morning, sweating all over. The bed sheets were wrapped around him, and he tried to get out as quietly as he could. 

He pulled back the curtains of his four-poster, listening to the steady breathing of his four year mates. 

The gibbous moon was still high in the sky. Harry changed into his school robes, the real ones this time, and pinned the real prefect badge to it. 

Then he left a note to Ron saying where he was and prepared to leave the room. 

Then he realised something was missing and cursed himself for not realising it the night before. 

"Damn," he muttered. "Where is that snake?" He couldn't find him anywhere, so he reverted to the original plan. 

Once he was outside the portrait hole, Harry checked the fat lady was still asleep and then transformed. 

He made two efforts to get to Remus' statue before he finally reached the wolf gargoyle. 

Unsure of what to do, he scratched at its face with his claws. The thing came to life, and Harry leapt back. The gargoyle considered him, then opened.

Harry hung back, expecting a trick, until Remus came to the opening. "come in then, My Lord," he said with a grin. 

I'll kill him, thought Harry as he bounded past the open gargoyle and into the cosy room that his old Professor lived in. 

By the time Remus had closed the gargoyle, Harry had transformed. 

"Why do you glare so, My Lord?" asked Remus casually. 

"I'll do worse than that if you call me by that stupid name ever again."

Remus laughed. "Ali always was a bit of a romantic," he said, sitting down and motioning for Harry to do the same. "I guess she hasn't changed."

"You're telling me. How did I get in without the password?" 

"The gargoyle is programmed to refuse admittance to humans. It doesn't work the same with animals."

"Ok… what are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep. You?"

"I always get up this early."

Remus raised one eyebrow. 

"Ok. I had a dream. Not one of those," he added hastily when Remus looked worried, "just a… bad dream."

Remus seemed unsatisfied, but he did not question further. "So Harry, how does it feel now that everyone is back at school."

"I don't know. I think that's what I wanted to talk about."

Remus leant back in the large chair. "Go ahead, Harry."

For some reason that made him feel even more embarrassed than before. 

"Well, I've told Ron and Hermione as much as I dare, but they both keep looking at me out of the corners of their eyes like they expect me to collapse or something."

"That is understandable," said Remus. "From what I've heard, your condition at the end of last year was enough to make any friend of yours feel concerned. And don't' forget, Hermione witnessed your 'accident' over the summer."

"But it isn't just them I'm worried about. Last year, after Cedric… after the third task, everyone skirted me in the halls, like in second year when everyone thought I was the heir of Slytherin because I was a Parselmouth."

That reminded him of something else.

"And now Sleeve's disappeared. Altogether, I'm not sure what to expect."

Remus sighed. "You're right Harry. All this at one time is too much for everyone, especially you. 

"But I am afraid that it is life at the moment. Ron and Hermione, in time will realise that they have nothing to be afraid of, and the other students, though they may need a little more time, will adjust to you just as they did when you were new here."

"I haven't run into Malfoy yet," said Harry suddenly. "What do you think he'll do, now his dad's filled him in on everything that happened when… when You Know Who came back. Will nothing have changed, or does he have orders to hex me as soon as he gets the chance?"

They sat in silence for a moment. Then Remus said: "I am afraid Harry, that these are questions you are going to have to answer for yourself. Right now, lets go over some animals together that you might find useful. I doubt you found time to revise last night what with all the explaining you undoubtedly had to do…"

**************************************************

Harry sprinted down the stairs to the entrance hall, not daring to transform since it was now five past seven and both students and teachers were up and about. 

Despite his haste, there weren't many people already eating breakfast in Great Hall when he arrived. On the first day of term this wasn't really surprising. 

Wendy and Hagrid waved at him from the staff table. Harry grinned and waved back, then seated himself opposite Fred and George, who were the only two at the Gryffindor table except a couple of prefects at the far end.

"Hey, Harry," said George. 

"Hi," said Harry. 

Fred made a face. Guessing what he was disgusted about, Harry fingered his prefect badge. 

"It really isn't so bad, you know," he said. "Just think, I can wander around school at all hours without having to sneak."

"Sneaking's the best part," said George, grabbing another slice of toast. 

Harry laughed, even though he was obviously serious.

"While we've got you on your own, Harry," said Fred in an undertone. "Thanks again."

"Yeah," said George. "We're the richest Weasleys under twenty one in existence now, 'cept maybe Percy."

"We got the dress robes," said Fred. "The look on Ron's face was priceless. He thought we'd hexed them."

"Mum really wanted to know where we'd got the money, but we weren't telling. We said we'd got them out of our savings."

"She still doesn't know about us losing it all. When she couldn't work out why we'd done something nice for our brother without being asked she gave up."

"How'd Percy get so rich?" asked Harry, picking at his porridge. 

"Didn't you hear? He got made Head of the department of International Magical Co-operation early last summer."

"He was doing all Crouch's work anyway, so they gave him the job. We thought mum and dad would be more pleased, but for some reason they're even more worried."

Harry wondered what story the ministry was telling about how Bartemius Crouch had died, but didn't dare ask. 

Instead, he listened to Fred and George's chatter about what they were going to do with his Tri-wizard winnings until Ron and Hermione entered, Ron clutching a piece of 

"You nearly scared me to death with that," said Ron, scrunching it into a ball and chucking at Harry. Only his Quidditch reflexes stopped it from landing with a plop in his porridge. 

"I thought you'd left school, until I remembered what you said last night."

Harry unrolled it and smiled.

Ron-

Gone to see Moony.

Harry. 

Fred and George were looking interested, so Harry changed the subject and kept everyone talking until the new year's timetables arrived in piles in the middle of the table. 

Harry searched through the fifth year pile until he had his, Ron's and Hermione's and passed them on. 

The first thing they noticed about them was that instead of short lessons scattered around the week, they now had large blocks, one before break, one after, and one after lunch. 

Three lessons a day. 

The second thing they noticed made them the two boys groan. 

"Potions first thing on a Saturday?" moaned Ron. "We'll die!"

"And if we don't we'll get murdered in Care of Magical Creatures right after," said Harry, his breakfast forgotten. "And each lesson three times as long!"

"Honestly, does it really matter what time we have anything?" said Hermione, buttering her toast disdainfully. 

"It does when we have Herbology last thing on a Friday," said Ron, glancing at Hermione's timetable too, trying to find something wrong with it.

"You're joking!" said Hermione, dropping her toast and picking up her timetable, which was now covered in marmalade. "We'll never stay awake long enough to stop being bitten by something!"

"Especially when we've got Divination first thing," said Harry with a grimace. "And again on Wednesday, look."

"What's up?" asked Neville, coming to sit with them along with Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati. 

"Look at this lot," said Harry. They all grabbed a timetable except Seamus, who was looking at Harry oddly. When Neville dug him in the side and gave him his timetable he jumped and took it quickly.

"These block things are weird," said Neville, reading the explanation off the back before turning it over. Then he went pale. 

_"Two lots of potions?"_

"First thing on Saturday and half way through Thursday," said Dean. "How are we going to live through this year? And we're still with the Slytherins, damn it…"

_"Two lots of potions?"_

"Well," said Hermione, picking up her toast again and setting the spilt marmalade to rights. "At least we've got Defence Against the Dark Arts today. That can't be all bad."

_"Two lots of potions?"_

"Oh, no," said Harry.

"What?"

"Transfiguration first thing this morning."

"What's so awful about that?"

_"Two lots of potions?"_

"Neville, shut up."

Harry swallowed. He severely hoped that Professor McGonagall looked into her classroom before the lesson. He was now really regretting doing anything to the décor of her room.

"We won't be awake enough to enjoy Defence Against the Dark Arts anyway, Hermione," he said quickly. "History of Magic first."

Everyone groaned and Ron hit him over the head with a roll for spoiling his daydream.

"I'm going to be awake," he said firmly.

"Awww… Ronnie's got a cru-ush!" said Fred. Ron hit him with his other roll.

"Now, now, Ron," said George. "That's hardly prefect-like behaviour. I expected better from you."

Ron realised Professor McGonagall was watching him sternly and reassembled his breakfast, blushing. 

The post did not arrive until all the students were in the hall. 

The first years were sitting at the other end of the table, Harry could just make out Sarah Pordell sitting next to Juliet Weasley, who was talking very loudly and loading food onto Sarah's plate. 

When Harry pointed this out, Ron told him that his cousin was like that all the time. 

Snape had not arrived. 

Hedwig did not fly down to Harry's plate to munch on his bacon rinds as usual – Harry could guess why – but Madeline swooped gracefully down to perch on Hermione's goblet rim. 

After most of the owls had settled or flown off, Harry looked up and tried to see out of the glassless windows. 

Suddenly, his heart beat like a drum inside his chest.

"Harry, what are you waiting for?" asked Hermione, behind him. 

He couldn't answer. He waited with baited breath. If he had looked up to the staff table he would have seen the teachers gazing out of the windows too. 

Harry's silence spread to those around him, until it went down the whole table and then around the whole school until everyone waited – for what, they didn't know. Most of them were looking with confusion at the teachers. 

It was like that sudden silence at the theatre, when there is no signal but everyone knows instinctively that it is time to hush now, something is about to happen.

And then, through the silence, everyone distinctively heard a flap of wings. Harry got up and stood away from the bench. So did Wendy, on the opposite side of the room. 

"I can handle this, Professor," said Harry clearly. Everyone turned to look at him. 

All of a sudden his icy fear had vanished. 

Voldemort could overpower him in graveyards, in underground caverns, in the darkness of his dreams. He wasn't going to do it here, in his home; in front of those he spent his days with, his teachers, his friends, his enemies.

"Harry," said Wendy, looking worried.

"I said, I can handle it," said Harry. Professor McGonagall helped Hagrid to pull Wendy into her seat. Harry looked at Dumbledore, who nodded at him.

The brown owl reached the window. Hundreds of pairs of eyes followed it as it flew straight towards the small black haired boy who was backing up towards the door of the Great Hall. 

Harry opened the door, his eyes never leaving the owl and the letter, in a red envelope this time, coming closer and closer. 

When he caught the letter as it dropped, several people gasped. It was a howler, already smoking at the edges. Quick as lightning, Harry threw it into the entrance hall and dived in behind it, pulling the door shut. 

"HARRY!" Hermione screamed. 

The howler exploded, ten times as loud, ten times as dangerous as a normal one. Alone in the hall, Harry dodged flames that sped his way. 

The laughter sent a chill through the bones of everyone in Great Hall. Hermione and Ron sat helplessly listening to it, Fred and Seamus holding them in their places. 

Mocking, cold laughter. The sound seeped through Harry's bones as he twisted and turned to get out of the way. 

Oh, please don't let him start speaking. Please. 

Hermione dug her nails into Seamus' palm and he yelped and let go. George grabbed her as she reached for her wand to blast open the door. 

"Get _off _me, George!"

"HARRY POTTER!"

Several first years screamed, others put their hands over their ears. George and Fred let go of Hermione and Ron. They stayed where they were, eyes wide.

"DID YOU THINK I HAD FORGOTTEN YOU?"

Professor McGonagall stood up, Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder. 

"DON'T WORRY, HARRY POTTER…"

The Great Hall heard another great explosion; Harry ducked as a great fireball sped his way. 

Cursing himself for not thinking of it before, blinded in smoke, he raised a large shield, wishing he had eaten more breakfast. He and his shield needed the energy. The silver shield stood firm as fireballs and tongues of flame bounced off it. 

"I WILL NEVER FORGET YOU… YOU ARE ON THE TOP OF MY LIST, HARRY. NO NEED TO WORRY ABOUT THAT…"

I'm not worrying… believe me… 

Hermione shrieked and buried her face in Ron's robes as an explosion louder than ever caused her goblet to tip over. 

Then they heard Harry's voice, loud and clear above the sound of fire.

"You're really pushing your luck here, you know. The thing with the poisonous gas stuff was original, but this is downright low. Fire throwing howlers? I expected better of Y-"

Harry ducked again as something very hot flew his way.

"REALLY, I'D HAVE THOUGHT YOU WOULD HAVE BETTER MANNERS. YOU WERE RATHER RUDE, LAST TIME WE MET… YOU DIDN'T EVEN SAY GOODBYE…" carried on the pre-recorded message.

Ron closed his eyes and imagined what was going on behind those doors. 

The sound of something heavy falling over, probably a suit of amour, broke him out of his reverie.  

"Brilliant. Now look what You've done. I suggest You clean that u- hey!"

His shield down out of sheer cockiness, Harry had to beat flames out of his robes.

"THAT'S YOU, POTTER, NO RESPECT AND NO MANNERS. NO BRAINS EITHER. JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER, REALLY. HE THOUGHT HE HAD A CHANCE.  HA!"

The insane laughter echoed once more off the stones as the students sat listening in horror. 

Ron plucked up the courage to look away from the doors of the Great Hall to look at Malfoy and his cronies. Was that a _smile _on his face?  

"NOW, HARRY, I WOULD HATE FOR YOU TO GO AWAY WITH A FALSE IDEA OF YOUR FATHER. HE FOUGHT BRAVELY. JUST NOT BRAVELY ENOUGH… I HOPE YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DISAPPOINT ME THAT WAY. I AM EXPECTING A FIGHT FROM YOU HARRY, NOT ANOTHER GAME OF HIDE AND SEEK. AND ONCE WE'RE DONE PLAYING, I'LL MOVE UP A STEP. I'LL KILL EVERYONE YOU CARE ABOUT – AND MAKE YOU WATCH. WHAT DO YOU SAY TO THAT?"

The sound of flames shooting through the air died. 

Harry lowered his new shield so that the gloom of the entrance hall was only dispersed by the dim light from the windows and the burning remains of a red envelope. 

There was silence from the great hall when before there had been screaming.

Harry worked his tongue around his mouth until he had enough moisture, then spat on the ashes. 

"I say push off," he told it. Then he said something very rude at it in Parseltongue and turned to go into Great Hall. 

"That," he said when he stood inside the enormous room, all eyes on him. "Was so unoriginal you could hang it off a garden wall and it'd rot." 

He looked down and checked himself over. He was unharmed, apart from one side of his robes, which was singed. He sighed, walked back over to his seat and started eating as if nothing had happened. 

Silence.

Harry looked up at the nearest table – Ravenclaw. 

"Can I help you with something?" he asked. Everyone immediately returned to their meal, talking in loud voices. 

Harry shook his head and dug a fork into his bacon. 

The Gryffindors were the only table not eating. 

"_Harry,"_ started Hermione. "What _was _that?"

"That," said Harry. "Was a letter from hell. Or rather, Devon."

"You didn't half make a scene," muttered Ron. "Did you think no one would notice?"

"Do you think people will notice next time, or the time after that?" Harry asked him. "If I make a big deal out of it this first time, I can get rid of the others without bother – though I wish I'd made it into the grounds. Did it _have _to be so loud?"

"Others?" Neville squeaked. 

"Just because He made His point on the first day of school doesn't mean He's giving up, Neville," said Harry. "Although I hope He uses His imagination next time. I need the practise."

"A simple 'no' would have sufficed," said Ron, still shocked but managing to be annoyed too.  He glanced down to the end of the table. "You realise you've scared all the first years out of their trousers?"

"They'll see worse." Harry shrugged. "They may as well start now."

"That's a cheerful outlook," said George with a frown.  

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" said Harry. He managed to say it in a way that no one argued with him. 

Wendy met him in the Entrance hall after breakfast. "Brilliant!" she said, hugging him. 

"Gerroff," said Harry. "Any news of Snape?"

"Not a dickey bird. I asked Dumbledore if he'd sent someone out to look for him but he said he trusted Snape to be cynical enough to keep himself alive. You might want to do something about that," she said, nodding at the burnt off edge of his black school robe.

"Sure," said Harry. "We'll see you this afternoon, then?"

"Yes. You're my first lesson. I have to take two of Snape's classes this morning. I hear McGonagall has you first?"

Harry groaned again. Wendy laughed. 

"Hopefully she won't be _too_ angry," she said with an evil smile.

"I'll blame it all on you," said Harry, conscious that Ron and Hermione were listening.

"You'd better not. Your handiwork, your excuse. Bye!"

She hurried off down the stairs to the dungeons. 

"I didn't know she was qualified for potions," said Harry thoughtfully, to no one in particular. 

"She doesn't have to be," said Hermione, as they commenced their walk up the stairs. "She can just tell them to copy things up from the textbooks. Harry, what did you two mean when you were talking about McGonagall?"

The question was simple enough, but her tone meant, _I really don't like it when people keep secrets from me_.

Since Harry knew how that felt, he answered. 

"I made a little change to her classroom," he said, red-faced. "It's only a _little_ change, but I don't think she's been in there since I arrived. If she suspects me I'm dead."

"You're doomed," Ron admitted. "You'll just have to make the best of the time you have left with us."

Harry walked in silence the rest of the way, while his two friends argued about what they would be studying in Transfiguration this year.

Ron had not spoken in earnest of course, but Harry couldn't' help thinking how true his words could eventually be.

You'll have to make the best of the time you have left with us.

And I intend to, thought Harry firmly as they joined the queue outside McGonagall's classroom and he fixed the burnt edge of his robe with a glare.

I intend to.

**What's to say? Hope you liked it. I did – so much better than the last. Oh yeah, I've updated my bio, like if anyone cares. It's kind of funny. 

Thank you everyone for all your brilliant reviews in the face of that awful chapter. 

Sorry – I know I usually comment on your reviews but I want to get this chapter up before the night is out and get it off my chest or I won't be able to sleep. (Not that I will anyway, with school looming in the distance.

Here be thanks:

the Queen of Fire and Ice

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Darkfire

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lover of the Dragon

fiffer


	15. I really, really, really don't need all ...

**Hello. I know, I know… I was ages. Blame it on my French teacher. Actually no, blame it on people who don't know the meaning of duty. No, blame it on the people who insist on updating regularly and keep me reading the whole time instead of writing. Or you could just blame it on me and leave it at that.

Thank you everyone for your support! You're all great! **

Slowly, the hallways cleared, everyone who passed glancing nervously at Harry, who smiled back at them. But all too quickly, the sound of footsteps was heard.

_Here goes nothing._

"Good morning class, welcome to your first Transfiguration class of the year."

Several people groaned jokingly. 

"I heard that," said Professor McGonagall with a rare smile. Harry hoped her good mood stuck.  

She opened the door. "Oh my goodness!"

The place was a menagerie. Not quite literally, but…

The great doglegged (AN: can you believe that's actually a word?) desk stood on the raised teacher's platform amid a glory of animal related furniture. 

The chairs were all insigned by a cat's head carved into the back.

The window frame was now delicately decorated with wings, and the curtains sported a pattern of lions, badgers, eagles and snakes. 

The walls, that before had been stone grey, were a dark blue that did not overpower everything else, and occasionally a bird would fly across them. 

Professor McGonagall surveyed it all with a glance, though she looked longer at the desk than everything else, then looked straight at the Gryffindors.

Then she looked right at Harry.

"Er… it was an accident?"

"Potter…" she seemed lost for words. 

"It's all the original furniture," he assured her. "So you can change it all back, easy."

Professor McGonagall managed to croak, "Intermediate stages?"

"Er… one," said Harry, realising in the nick of time what she meant. "The desk used to be an Alsatian." 

The Transfiguration teacher wandered over to the desk and ran a hand over it. A blank look came over her eyes as if deep in thought. Then she turned to her students. "Well, what are you waiting for? Sit down."

They did, in a flurry of bags and cloaks as Ron and Hermione dragged the stunned Harry to the back of the classroom as usual. 

"Harry," said Hermione. "What did you do? You _can't _have done this, you just don't know enough…"

_That's what you think._

"It wasn't all me," Harry lied. "Wendy – Professor Little – did most of it."

"She has weird taste," said Ron, looking around and watching as a bluebird flew across the room on the wall.

"So you _don't _like her," said Hermione triumphantly. 

"I never said that," said Ron, affronted.

Hermione sighed as she unpacked her books. 

Harry was too stunned at the fact that Professor McGonagall hadn't told him off that he simply upended his bag on the desk and started putting back the ones he wouldn't need. 

The lady herself was examining the desk inch by inch, occasionally throwing a withering glance at a bluebird fluttering across the far wall. Harry had a feeling that that particular aspect of the room would not be staying long. The parrots were rather good though, if he thought so himself. 

"Today," said Professor McGonagall, "is a review session. "I will be handing out the guinea pigs from last year, and you will all transfigure them back into guinea fowls before the end of class."

"Where does she keep those?" whispered Hermione, trying to find her notes on cross species switches. 

"Who feeds them?" agreed Harry. 

"How do they keep Neville's from trying to fly?" said Ron. 

"You can talk," said Hermione. "Yours still had a beak."

"Yeah, but it doesn't any _more,_" said Ron with a grin at Harry. 

"You know perfectly well that's because you threatened me to…" Hermione smiled her thanks at Professor McGonagall as she received her guinea pig. 

Harry looked at his. It looked all right for the moment. He made pretence of looking through the textbook. If he were to transfigure it now he'd cause a stir. 

Again.

Ten minutes before the end of class, no one had managed to transfigure their guinea pig, even Hermione. 

This was saying something, because due to the change in their timetable, their class that morning was the equivalent to three lessons. 

Several people had changed their animal into _a_ guinea fowl, but Professor McGonagall gave it changed it back after telling them that it wasn't _the_ guinea fowl.

Harry knew why that was, but he wasn't going to make another big scene today, thank you very much. 

"I don't understand it," said Hermione for the hundredth time. "I've changed it five times already, and every time she told me that it wasn't right. It's not fair."

"Maybe it's a trick question," said Harry, doing his best to give her a hint without letting on that _he knew the answer._

_It's so _obvious! _Please someone figure it out so we can go…_

"Mr. Potter?"

"Er… yes?"

"I think I am right in guessing that you are stalling, Mr. Potter."

"Stalling?" 

"Yes, stalling," said Professor McGonagall, giving Harry one of her sternest looks. "Perform the spell, _now._ Pay attention, everyone." 

Harry sighed, resigned to his fate. He placed one finger on his guinea pig and said clearly, "Priori incantatem."

The guinea pig looked surprised for a minute, and then reverted to its original state with a 'pop'.

Everyone was staring. Harry suddenly had a severe urge to disappear. 

"Very good, Mr. Potter. Fifteen points to Gryffindor for spotting the trick, five points from Gryffindor for waiting until Miss Granger did it for you. Break time, everyone." 

She leant down to whisper in Harry's ear, "But I'd use your wand next time, if I were you."

Harry swallowed. So much for being inconspicuous. 

Fortunately, no one else had noticed. No one within a two foot radius, anyway.

"_Harry!"_ Hermione choked. "_What did you do?_"

Harry shrugged. "Priori incantatem."

"We know that, you prat," said Ron, exasperatedly. "How did you do it _without your wand?"_

"Shut up," Harry hissed, because Neville had stopped to pick up feathers and was looking at them strangely. 

"I'll tell you later." He ducked out of the classroom, but Ron and Hermione caught him before he'd gone five steps. They pulled him into a dark, abandoned corridor.

"Later isn't good enough," Hermione stated firmly. "That's all we've got from you since we arrived. We're your friends, and we deserve to know."

Harry sighed. "Fine," he said. "Voldemort can do wandless spells."

"So?" said Ron, forgetting in his eagerness to flinch at the sound of the name. 

"Well, you know I told you how I can speak Parseltongue because Voldemort gave it to me that night…"

"Ok," said Hermione, working it out.

"I inherited this too," Harry said bitterly.

"But… but…" 

"Isn't that awfully rare?"

"Voldemort's a rare guy. My dad could do some too, so I got it twice."

There was a pause, the silence broken only by the distant sound of excited chatter. Then…

"How do you know that's how you can do it? Did Professor Little tell you?"

"She doesn't know. I worked it out for myself."

"But didn't she teach you how to use it?"

"Oh, yeah. She knows I can do it. She just doesn't know exactly why."

"How much can you do?" asked Hermione. 

Harry shrugged. "Who knows? No one ever tells me anything."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"There are certain things you don't want too many people to know, Ron," Hermione snapped.

"But…"

"Are you done asking questions?" said Harry. "Or are we going to go into a whole debate?"

Hermione sighed and moved back into the main hallway.  

Ron looked up at his friend. There was something else. He knew there was. Something Harry wasn't going to tell them in a hurry. 

But if his plan worked, then he'd find out soon enough. But his plan was so complex, so dangerous…

"Coming?" said Harry. Ron shook his head and ran to catch up. 

By the time they'd sprinted round the corner to the History of Magic classroom, it had started to rain. 

"Charming," said Ron, looking out of the window as they sat down and pulling out his books. 

"Were we expecting something else?" asked Harry mildly. He tugged at the fastenings on his bag and one broke. All his books toppled out onto the floor, and he swore quietly.

Ron helped him with his books. Harry froze as he picked up,

'Animal Anatomy and Behaviour, A Study' by Veronica Whimsy,

But he only glanced at the title and shoved it back in Harry's bag. 

Professor Binns entered the room through the blackboard and looked down at his lesson plan without even acknowledging them.

"Please open your books," he said when they were all settled. 

The lesson dragged on. 

Although the book was different, the one Harry had looked at before, about famous witches and wizards over the last century, Professor Binns had managed to pick the most boring wiard in the whole volume for them to study. 

Harry had just about enough time to hear the birthplace of Mr. Gregory Amsted, (1902) before he lapsed into a daydream.

_Snape_. Where was he? There was a chance he could be hurt – why wasn't Dumbledore doing anything?

All right, thought Harry. I hate Snape. But Sirius is right; he's needful to our cause. Damn, what I something's happened? Sleeve would know. But Sleeve…

As though in answer to his thoughts, Harry felt a rasping touch against his leg and he froze. But it was only the edge of his robes. 

He relaxed and tried to read the page along with his ghost teacher, but it was impossible. 

The rain beating on the window drove through his concentration like a knife. 

By the end of the lesson he was cross and irritable, and defiantly ready for lunch. 

"You're hungry," Ron observed as Harry tucked into his food with more gusto than he had for days.

"I'll never survive another lesson like that," Harry complained. "When do we have him again?"

"Good question. Halfway through Wednesday."

Harry growled and speared a roast potato with unnatural force. 

"Don't worry," said Hermione with an evil grin quite reminiscent of Wendy's. "Defence Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"What's so bad about that?" Ron demanded indignantly.

"We'll have to hold him down in his seat," Hermione said casually to Harry. "We wouldn't want to scare the poor woman, now would we?"

Ron went red to the tips of his ears and spooned soup into a bowl to hide his embarrassment. 

Harry thought there was something wrong about that. Normally he would have argued Hermione to the death if she'd suggested something like that. 

Maybe Ron really did have a crush on Wendy. 

Harry was certainly not feeling too well disposed towards his teacher. She had that glint in her eye every time he looked up at her that meant she had something up her sleeve, and it wasn't a small black snake. 

He could also bet pretty much anything that her little joke would be directed at him. 

He caught his arch rival glancing at him occasionally. There didn't seem to be any particular malice in his gaze, but one never knew.

"What happened with Malfoy on the train?" Harry asked Ron.

"Oh, that," Ron said, taking a huge bite out of a slice of bread and talking with his mouth full. "It was weird."

"Usually he insults us before he starts physically threatening," remarked Hermione, slicing her turkey delicately with disapproving looks at Ron. "But he just came in with Crabbe and Goyle and raised his wand. Just like that."

"Of course, Hermione doesn't like it when people have such bad manners," continued Ron, so she stunned the three of them in succession and kicked them into the next compartment for someone to find. Let's hope Malfoy's dad's not got too many hopes of him being a duelling master. He's really very bad at it."

Harry laughed, but his heart wasn't in it. It seemed that Malfoy really had received orders from his father – to exterminate with all caution. 

It also looked like he'd been warned not to pick fights with them, but to get on with it without the usual rude banter.

"He hesitated," Hermione said modestly. "I don't know why. But I ought to have reported him – you don't just attack someone for no reason – but I had a feeling they probably wouldn't believe me."

"I have a feeling you were probably right," said Harry with a frown. 

"Did you see that article in the paper the other day?" said Ron. "Fudge is getting worried, he can't just keep passing these attacks off as gas explosions and stuff. Heck, half the houses that were attacked don't even have gas."

"He had hard trouble explaining the Darling case," said interrupted Fred from just up the table.

Harry's throat constricted. 

"You all right, Harry?" asked Ron. "You've gone pale."

"Yeah, fine," said Harry.

"You really ought to eat more, you know," said Hermione critically. "I saw those pictures."

Harry winced. 

Dean, from the other side of the table looked up sharply and began listening intently.

"I hope you burned them," said Harry. 

"I wanted to," joked Hermione. "But my parents wouldn't let me have a fire. So I had to settle for giving them a decent burial."

Harry was very glad that most of the table didn't have a clue what they were talking about. 

After lunch, they went up to Gryffindor tower for the thirty minutes they had before Defence Against the Dark Arts. 

Harry had only just slammed himself into an armchair, when there was a knock on the portrait. 

"Do you mind?" they heard the fat lady say. 

"Who is it?" asked one of the senior prefects politely. 

"Professor Snape," said the oily voice. 

Someone immediately leaped up to open the portrait. Harry sat up straight, relieved, but confused as to the reason why Professor Snape had come to Gryffindor tower. 

Snape stood in the empty space, looking in at the assorted Gryffindors, who stared back at him. His robes were a little singed, but otherwise he looked all in one piece. 

He looked reluctant to actually enter the cheery red common room, instead he looked around until he found Harry's face. 

"Potter!" he roared. "That…. That… _pet _of yours has invaded my dungeon!"

Harry had to try extremely hard not to laugh. So that was where Sleeve had been, all this time! Why, was a different question, one that he intended to ask his friend as soon as he found him. 

"Well?" demanded Snape, his cold eyes flashing, daring anyone to ask what he was talking about.

"Well what, professor?" Harry asked, as politely as he could, getting out of his chair and spreading his arms wide in innocence. 

One of the first years giggled, but was quickly silenced as the potions master glared in all directions. 

"What do you propose to do about it?" Snape snarled at Harry. 

"I can't watch over him all the time, Professor," Harry protested. 

"Then I suggest you tell him not to leave this tower. In any case, you are coming with me and removing that… _thing_ from my dungeon. Now, Potter! Unless you want to lose so many points Gryffindor will be in debt for several months."

Several people started muttering angrily then, so Harry left with an apologetic glance in Ron and Hermione's direction.

Both of them looked completely baffled, and Hermione looked murderous. 

Maybe I ought to have filled them in a bit more, Harry decided far too late, as he and Professor Snape made their way down all the flights of stairs in the castle to the dungeons. 

They didn't say a word to each other, and Harry had to run to keep up with Snape's huge stride. 

Wendy was in the entrance hall, examining the golden framed list of Head Boys that hung at the very end. 

She turned when she heard them approach. "Severus," she said in a tone that must have irritated Snape to hell and back. "You've stolen my student." She didn't sound the least bit surprised to see him. 

Snape said nothing, only scowled at her and swooped off down the staircase to the dungeons. Harry stopped to wink at Wendy before running off after him. 

When they reached the door to the classroom dungeon, Snape hung back. He opened the door, and then reached out to give Harry a little push inside. 

_Would you rather freeze to death…?_

Harry's senses screamed. Without meaning two, he extended his internal shield to about five inches from around his skin. Snape pulled his hand back with a cry of pain. 

Harry flattened himself against the doorjamb and pulled the shield back into him. When he was sure it wouldn't hurt anyone, he looked at Snape. 

The potions master was looking at him with disbelief in his eyes

"I'll just… go then," said Harry, and ducked inside the classroom. He closed the door behind him and collapsed against it. 

That had been far too close. He'd thought Snape was going to hit him, and his defences had reacted. 

He couldn't' afford for that to happen unless he wanted it too. What if one of his friends gave him a friendly punch and he gave them a fatal electric shock? 

He gathered himself and looked around for Sleeve. When he didn't see him he knelt down on the floor. 

_"Hello?"_

_"Who is there?"_

_"It's me, Harry."_

_"Harry… that name is strange to me."_

Harry jumped. 

_"Aren't you Sleeve?"_

_"Hmm… Sleeve… No. I do not know this name either."_

Great. Just what Harry needed. Another snake on the look out for Snape's blood. 

_"Will you come out so I can see you?"_

There was a rustle, and then the snake obeyed. 

Harry gasped. The snake emerging from behind the cupboard was much bigger than Sleeve. It was about half as long again as his arm and at least half as thick. 

_"Who are you?"_

_"I have no name."_

_"Why not?"_

_"My master has no need of names."_

_"Sleeve had a name," _Harry said indignantly.

_"Who is this Sleeve?"_

_"Er… Toxica Caninus?"_

The snake hissed in anger. _"That young fool is a traitor. He abandoned his position."_

_"Are you a death fang?"_

_"You are correct."_

_"A full grown one?"_

_"Indeed."_

_"What are you doing here?"_

_"I am here to fulfil the task that my brother failed."_

_"Oh right. You mean you're spying on Snape."_

This straightforward form of address seemed to startle the snake a little.

_"I don't suppose you'd consider turning over to our side?"_

_"I have only one master."_

Harry sat back on his heels and regarded the snake. He was pretty sure it wasn't going to hurt him, but if it wasn't going to be any help, he wasn't sure how he was going to get rid of it. 

He certainly couldn't let it go to report to Voldemort, that was for certain. That would put both Snape and Sleeve in a very large amount of trouble. 

Then he remembered something that had been the turning point in Sleeve's defection. 

_"You'd get a choice."_

The snake hesitated. _"A choice…"_

_"Yes. You can decide things for yourself."_

_"I follow my master's orders."_

_"If I was your master, you would have a choice."_

The snake considered this for a moment.

**

When Harry came out, the large black snake wrapped around one of his arms, Snape blanched and backed off. 

From the snake or him, Harry wasn't sure. 

"Damn it Potter! That thing is huge! How did it get so big?"

"It's not the same one, Professor," Harry explained calmly. 

"Not the same…" Snape looked on the verge of collapse.

"I imagine there'll be a lot coming to look for you," Harry told him, a small part of him rejoicing at this chance to get one over on Snape. "I'll take care of them. All you have to say is that they never found you."

Snape stared at him. Then he practically fled off in the opposite direction to the staircase. 

_"He left in a hurry," _remarked the large snake. 

_"He's like that," _said Harry. 

In that moment, Harry suddenly realised that he did not have nearly enough time to get the snake up to Gryffindor tower, or even hide it, before it was time for Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Harry hissed a swearword and the snake shuffled uncomfortably. It was a very rude word, and snakes were not given to impoliteness.

"Sorry. Only I have to go to my next lesson, and I'm not sure what to do with you."

_"Hide me there," _the snake jerked its tail towards his bag. 

"Will you stay there?" Harry asked doubtfully.

The snake made a sound that did not translate, but told Harry that it was extremely bad manners to doubt the credibility of one's snake 'servant'. 

**

"Where have you _been_?" Hermione demanded the moment he turned the corner, panting, taking care not to jostle his bag. "What on earth was Snape talking about, and why did you go with him?"

Harry was about to answer with another annoying vague reply, when Wendy turned up and saved him. 

Thanks. It's the first time.

"Hello class! Welcome to your first Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons with yours truly. Inside all of you, don't dilly dally."

"The woman's a lunatic," Harry heard Lavender whisper disapprovingly. 

"Just because someone has a sense of humour, Lavender-" Ron started, but Hermione quickly span him around and made him sit down in the front row so that he couldn't see anyone except Professor Little. 

That seemed to cheer him up.

Harry very carefully got his books out, as Wendy took the register. 

"Right then," she said when she'd finished. "Today we're going to be doing a little shield work. It's not often taught, but I've been given my orders."

She giggled a little nervously. "Personally I prefer the shield method. It works effectively when taught properly."

Think you can manage that? Harry thought with a smile. 

"Before we start, I'm going to banish my tutee from the classroom."

Harry jumped. Hermione and Ron stared at him. 

"There are things I'd rather he didn't hear – not from me, anyway." She gave Harry an insolent, but guilty, grin. 

"Potter, in there please." She pointed with her wand to an adjoining classroom door that had definitely never been there before.

Harry got up. Now was definitely not a good time to leave his bag unattended, but he had no way of telling Wendy so without the rest of the class hearing. 

"Am I allowed back in?" he asked. 

"Er… no." 

"What am I going to do for a full two hours?"

Wendy smiled. "You'll work with this." She handed him a little ball that seemed to be made of metal. When he got hold of it, the unexpected weight made his hand drop to knee-level. 

"What is it?"

"You'll see. Shoo, Potter. Press the little red button on the back to start it – only I'd wait until you've a lot of space to run."

Harry looked at the metal ball. It was big enough to fit comfortably into his palm, a little bigger than a snitch.

He turned to go, full of foreboding, but Wendy stopped him.

"Just a minute Potter. _Expelliarmus!_"

Harry's wand flew out of his pocket and into her waiting hand. The class gaped, Harry made a face. 

Then he turned and made his way into the side room, the little metal ball held tentatively in his palm. 

**Ok, ok. I was going to finish the day, really I was… but then I realise I haven't posted in over a week and this would be as good a time as any to stop. My plan is falling to pieces. Feel free to crucify me.

I tried to answer as many reviews as I could this time. Mainly because I have nothing else to do, and it irritates people.

Here be thanks:

Evil Willow

Chaser: I do my best. I used to update everyday. Some people do. Some people take over a year – no joke! Count yourself lucky!

Immortal Rose: Hi fellow Rose. I'm really glad you liked the howler scene. I was kind of aiming for a humorous point.

shinystars007: There's a problem I haven't quite got round to fixing yet…

Ugly Duckling

Myk

Lanfear: Hello again faithful reader and your muse! I'm glad you both enjoyed the 

last chapter.

Ivette Jamaya: I know. I like being cruel… he he… it's fun….

The Lost Cub

Fiddy

Amy

~Mary~: For a seventeen year old you are still funny! Not that they aren't funny… 

damn now I put my foot in it. I'm glad you enjoy my story and I hope you continue reading!

lover of the Dragon

Autumn Dreams: Thank you faithful reader!

AllAboutMe

Lady Russell Holmes: **still trying to work out if it's a compliment…** Thanks! 

You update soon too!

Centra-gal86: Great I'm glad you liked it!

Mysia: I'm planning on a lot more hatemail! It's fun to write!

Schulyr

Katani Petitedra: Hate school… I'm also planning on a howler when Voldie CAN 

hear what he says WITHOUT the poison gas etc. Still trying to work out how to do it…

AllieSkittllez: Ahh. Everyone likes the howler bit. Me too, he he….

Ernie Prang: Devon.. not sure if I was joking or not… he's worked it out from his 

dreams. I'll work that in somehow. Thanks!

Darkfire

Karen: Brilliant!

John

Suna

Wingweaver

Lorelei Wood: Think you must have forgotten to ask… oh well you're up now!

Darienetta Stoke

Skahducky: The Dursleys are a difficult situation. It will take time to develop them 

properly. Right now I am content with my almost Dursley free plot with Harry not talking about it. Makes things a hell of a lot easier. 

Moonlight Rose

Gaheris

Kaitie Bell: I know I am irritating with that phrase. I love it. 

Jordan

RISER155

Phoenix Flight

Nova

Bumblebee Bucy: Thank you special!

Lani Lathron

Midnightmountain: You are Sarah's sister. Don't try to fool me.

Hpfan

A-Potter-Person: …?

Bohemian Snitch: Thanks!

Aeternus and Vicieuxsinge: the 'the' virus? What the hell?

Melissa

Hyperwriter

chanzo654

gothic lover: he he

Ssjgoddesschico

Endless-luv

Azngurl

Shells: Glad you appove! Don't go flaming all the other authors…

J

Ascafeniel: yay nice big fight.

Rosie: Thank you ever so much for your nice comments especially about my 

rhyming song. You are the only one who commented **boo hoo!** but I can't blame everyone else – when I read the first two lines of a song and it doesn't impress me, I hit scroll before you can say: The next line is better! Don't worry though – every one is lost when it comes to 'would you rather freeze to death.' It's part of my charm. One little mystery that will not be solved for a long time. Surprisingly, I do actually have an answer. Hang off the wall and rot… was a completely made up phrase to mean unoriginal and I claim full responsibility to anything this may have done to anyone's stability system. Voldemort/Sleeve worries – well you just have to look at them as if there is a logical reason for everything. When magic's involved you needn't worry about such things. Always a reason. 

Anya Wood: God, leave me alone! LOL just kidding! Although sometimes I think 

you do this just to be irritating. Glad you like the parts of my stories that you have actually read. See ya @ skool m8. One minute – not Felicity. Olivia.   

august wynd

Daisi

Yearing 

**Hooray! A grand total of 60 reveiws! It has brought my average up to thirty – thank you everyone extra specially!!!!!!!!!!!!! **

Oh, yeah, if anyone has any ideas about the new snake's name… PLEASE tell me!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I suck at that stuff. 

Thanks!

Laterose.

 


	16. Something I wish you'd never shown me

**Yes, I'm creating a snake farm. So? 

YES OH YES OH YES! Past 500 REVIEWS! YES! 

Ok, that's out of my system. Right, anyway. Sorry for the delay. Basically, the weather here is getting better for the first time since August so instead of scribbling in the library at lunchtime, I'm outside, or doing something pointless, like a piano lesson. I wouldn't get too worried. The sun here is usually too lazy to appear this much for more than a week at a time. 

I'm doing my lovely thanks list now, cause by the end of this chapter you are all going to hate me so much that you won't want to listen to any of my replies. You'll want to moan at me. I don't care – as long as you review! But seriously, you will, really, really, hate me. 

I still haven't decided on a snake's name, so feel free to give me serious help!

Here be thanks:

AllAboutMe: I still need your help with the snake's name! Keep sending in ideas!

shdurrani

Myk

Ugly Duckling: I like it! I think that's on the pile!

Riser155 

Chrispy

nova 

RainWaters: I love your new name. 

kateydidnt: yes, well. I did actually think about it, but then I thought, 'nah, no one'll realise…'! Thanks for proving me wrong! Ah, well, you're still the only one that noticed. 

Anon

Chaser

Darkfire

Bumblebee Bucy: Thanks for your kind words! French sucks, apart from the funny incident today when the teacher spat in the bin…

DraconicalPriest

Bananafanayou: Right…

Shells 

John

Karen

Ssjgoddesschico

Jordan 

Satans lil sis

the Queen of Fire and Ice: When are you people going to learn that 'evil' is my middle name? He he…

Amerz: You sound like a supportive fan! Keep reading!

skahducky 

shinystars007

Lanfear: Snake invasion? Hmm… sounds about right… he he…

summersun 

Moonlight Snitch

Sirius' Mistress: Nice idea, thanks!

Phoenix Flight: Thank you sooooooooooo much for all your great ideas! I need those! I still haven't decided, but all of them are great and even if I don't choose any of them, I can always use them elsewhere, like another snake maybe… **dam, stop giving things away!**

august wynd

Darienetta Stoke

Daisi: ER… wow. Thanks for the compliment. I'm not sure that J.K would be too pleased to hear you say that though… ha ha only joking! Ha! Rowling – I'm going to take over your job! Muahahah!

Iniysa

Katani Petitedra

AllieSkittllez: You mean Sherlock Holmes, right? (You know, the most famous spy ever in fictional history???) Hmm.. 

Setsuna 

Koneko

SEEKER-2000: Mary Sue (shudders)

chanzo654 

Ascafeniel 

Autumn Dreams

Lani Lalaith

Lorelei Wood: Thanks for your ideas, they're on the pile!

gothic lover 

Toffee

BigDaddy753

hp fan 

Shellme 

FleccaHPfan

Lady Russell Holmes

Charma1219

Hrei-siesn: Priori Incantatem is the reverse spell effect: ie: it reverses the spell. Regurgitation only happens when you are not pointing the wand at anything, to show an echo of the wand's last spell. I think it is, anyway. You could be right, but it's not all that important anyway, is it???

Phoenix Angel

Lucerito-del-alba

poter iaol 

Cataclysmic

JuniperRose07

Phèdre nó Delaunay: Wow – long review!!What's a condy… whatsit?

Anya Wood: Ha ha! Thanks for cheering me up, m8. (To the tune of 'I know a song…') Evil froggie teacher spat in the bin, spat in the bin, spat in the bin, Evil froggie teacher spat in the bin, and grossed everybody out!  Evil froggie teacher actually laughed, actually laughed, actually laughed, Evil froggie teacher actually laughed, and everyone ran away!!!!!!! See, you're a bad influence. I'm catching crazy disease already. God, he was in a good mood today. What has he been TAKING?

Thanks everyone for your brill reviews, comments and helpful suggestions! Flipping snake's causing more trouble than it's worth. **

The Chamber was large and square, with no furnishings, and Harry got the distinct impression that it was not a usual part of the castle. 

The were no windows, and the walls seemed to made, not of ordinary grey stone or brick, but of marble. 

The little grey ball started to hum and vibrate in Harry's hand. 

Harry looked at it. The 'red button' was sunk into the metal, so it was impossible to press it by accident. 

Harry put the ball close to his eyes and dug his fingernail into the gap, which, he realised later, was a pretty stupid thing to do, after all.

The result was that the little metal ball flew out of this hand and whizzed around the room. Sometimes it was so fast Harry's eyes couldn't even follow it. 

After about ten second of this madness it stopped, suspended in midair about two feet from Harry's head at eye level, rotating slowly. 

The first attack came completely without warning. 

A beam of red light shot out from some unseen perforation in the metal ball and hit Harry's internal shield in his chest – full centre.

The force made him fall over, and he just had time to roll out of the way before another beam made a dent in the floor. 

_The thing's lethal_, Harry thought. _I should've guessed._

His first life on his shield was gone – Harry had a feeling Wendy had planned that – so he threw up a blinding silver wall to deflect the next curse from the little metal snitch.

"Right," Harry muttered. "This means war."

********************************************************************

"As I was saying," Professor Little continued when Harry had left. "Shield work. Who can tell me what a shield is? A magical, shield, I mean? Miss Granger?"

"A wall of sheer magical power or force, used to absorb or deflect unfriendly spells or curses. Every person's shield is a unique shade, and the colour of the shield shows the strength of the person's magical power," said Hermione, alias textbook girl, excitedly.

"Well done," said Professor Little, smiling, as the rest of the class sniggered. 

"Five points to Gryffindor. Now, unfortunately, there is some theory to do, as with all things, so please copy up the notes on shields on page fifty-nine of your textbook. Then we can find out just how strong you all are."

Everyone else started talking excitedly about what colour his or her shield would be. As Hermione ducked to get her coloured pencils from her bag, she whispered to Ron. "I'm not sure about this. Anything could be happening in there."

"Hermione, Professor Little's a teacher. She wouldn't have given Harry that ball thing if it was really dangerous."

Hermione glared at him over her half filled-in colour chart. "I think you're forgetting Quirrel and Moody."

Ron glared back. "This is different," he said, scribbling in the last box on his own 'Colour Code of Magic' chart.

Before Hermione could answer, Professor Little spoke up again.

"Right then. If you've finished…" she still looked nervous.

"How obvious is it that it's her first teaching job?" They heard Parvati Patil giggle across the room. 

Professor Little went bright red.

"Erm… the first person in the register come to the front, please."

Grinning, Lavender Brown made her way to the front of the class before Professor Little's desk. Professor Little stood back and eyed her warily.

"Right," she said again. "Hold your wand straight out, yes that's right, and say the words. I suppose you remember them?"

Lavender shook her head, and Little grinned in triumph. The class giggled a little uncertainly. "Now, now, that's not a very good start, is it?" Little said. "The words are, listen carefully now – _Expecto Protectum_."

Hermione's hand shot up, and Ron leant back quickly to avoid being hit. 

"Professor, isn't that the same as the Patronus charm?"

Ah," said Little. "I was wondering how long it would be before someone asked me that. The incantations are not the same, Miss Granger, but they're very similar."

"How does that other one go then?" Seamus asked rowdily.

Little, her confidence apparently growing, rounded on him. 

"Go look it up if you're so interested. That's seventh year magic, and I'm not confusing you on purpose just so you can end up in the hospital wing with a severe need for medical care and rest."

There was a slightly stunned silence, as Professor Little turned back to Lavender, who was looking very worried indeed. 

Ron had a rather satisfied look on his face, however. 

"Now, before you start," their teacher told Lavender. "Remember that the colour of your shield will only tell you how strong your magic is, and the extent to which it can reach. It has nothing to do with how hard you study, how clever you are, or how quickly you pick things up."

Hermione looked rather worried at this too. 

Professor Little gave Lavender the go ahead, and she said, rather shakily, "_Expecto Protectum_."

A small wisp of colourless smoke pushed itself out of her wand, and Lavender looked at it with disappointment, her bottom lip quivering.

"Dearie me," said Professor Little. "Put a bit more effort into it, girl!"

"_Expecto Protectum!_"

It worked. A thin strand of sparkling orange fire made its way out of Lavender's wand and billowed into a wall, but painfully slowly. 

"Not bad," Professor Little admitted. "Orange is about halfway down the scale, so you're average. I wouldn't plan on a career as an auror though," she told Lavender succinctly. 

"That's all right Professor," said Lavender, looking very relieved. "I'm going to be a seer."

"In that case, you're magic level doesn't matter in the slightest," said their teacher, smiling as though she shared some private joke. 

Dean Thomas chuckled a little.

The next two people to try out their shields were also orange, on an average level of magic. 

When it came to Seamus' turn, he was ecstatic when he created a shimmering, palm tree green shield. 

"Well done!" said Professor Little, delighted. "We're moving up the scale."

Lavender shot Seamus a very poisonous look, and didn't say a word for the rest of the class.

Not long after Seamus, it was Hermione's turn. She made a shield instantly, and it was a solid crimson.

"Brilliant!" said Professor Little. "We've got some talented people in the class here. If we're lucky we might even get a couple purple or blue even."

"Miss?" said Parvati. "What about silver?"

Wendy looked at her kindly. "That's very, very rare, Miss Patil. It only occurs once or twice in a century. 

"What colour's _your_ shield miss?" Seamus asked, ever persistent. 

Professor Little shook her arm out impatiently and a sky blue shield rocketed out to block her completely from their view. 

She brought it down and looked around at the class' stunned faces.

"If that's enough questions?"

One green, then another orange. One yellow, which was a step down from orange, and then it was Neville's turn. 

He came shakily to the front of the classroom. He tried to say the words, but they wouldn't come out properly. 

"What are you so worried about?" Professor Little asked him. 

"Well…" Neville tried.

"What colour are you expecting it to be?"

Neville coughed. "Black."

A few people laughed. Black was at the very bottom of all their carefully drawn out charts.

"You have to stop thinking like that Neville," said Professor Little, making him look up quickly when she used his first name. 

"Clear your mind. Don't try and make the shield come out like you expect it to – it can't do that. You can't change your magical talent anymore than you can your… brothers and sisters, say."

Neville looked down at his wand. "_Expecto Protectum_!" 

A steady, solid wall of green magic tinged with red shot out of his wand. He stared at it in a kind of abject horror. 

"Well done, Mr. Longbottom!" Professor Little exclaimed. "You're quite a powerful wizard!"

Lavender's head fell forward onto her desk.

The rest of the class continued until it came to Ron's turn. The strongest of them so far, surprisingly, had been Parvati, with a shield of red and purple streaks. 

Ron sauntered up, his face confident but his hand sweaty around his wand. It took him a while to pluck up the courage to actually cast his shield, but when he did, he almost fainted from shock. 

The shield was blue. All right, there were a few purple streaks in it, weakening its strength a little, but the rest of it was definitely blue. 

He couldn't see through it, and he started to panic because he felt like there wasn't any way of getting out, so he let his wand drop. The blue wall with purple streaks vanished. 

Everyone, including Professor Little, was staring at him. 

"It's defective," Ron said quickly. "It has to be."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Professor Little. "You-" but the rest of what she had to say was drowned out by the sound of the bell. 

Ron ran to put his wand and books back in his bag, avoiding Hermione's eyes. 

The rest of the class filed out, throwing Ron surprised looks. Only Neville smiled at him as he left. Lavender didn't look at all. 

Ron wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, his head still reeling, but Hermione grabbed his bag to make him stay. 

"Is there anything I can help you two with?" Professor Little asked, calmly tidying papers, though she kept sending the occasional glance in Ron's direction.

Hermione looked unsure of how to answer that. 

"Er… Professor, are you going to let Harry out?"

Professor Little straightened up quickly, slapping herself on the forehead and scattering the papers she'd been tidying all over the floor. 

"Oh, drat! I'd clean forgotten!" 

Hermione looked at Ron rather pointedly. Ron tried hard not to meet her eyes. He knew that his ears were pink. 

Professor Little pulled her wand out of her pocket. "Finite incantatem!" She said, pointing at the door that Harry had gone through. The spell shot straight through the wood and into the room beyond.

The door slid open a crack at the force exerted on it. There was a whizzing sound, a dull clunk, and a cry of 'Hey!' from inside the chamber.

A moment later, Harry stalked out, holding the little metal ball in one hand. It had a few dents in it, and looked slightly less round than before.

Professor Little took it from him and frowned. 

"That thing's indestructible," Harry complained. "It fights like a Death Eater, moves like a Death Eater, but it refuses to die like a Death Eater."

"It's not supposed to," Professor Little told him. "It's supposed to be impossible to break. You're not even meant to damage it."

Harry grinned, as he took a surprising amount of care to pick up his bag. "Never make me mad," he told her. "Other stuff will get broken."

He turned to his two friends. "Good lesson?"

"Unbelievable," said Ron in earnest. 

"There's a surprise," said Harry, and narrowly ducked a swipe from Professor Little. 

"Go away," she said. "You've done enough damage already, don't you think?"

Harry grinned at her and led the other two out of the classroom. 

"Harry, what was all that about?" Hermione asked the second they were out of earshot. "How could a little metal ball hurt you?"

Harry laughed. "It looks like a little metal ball," he admitted. "But it's the best dueller I've ever come across."

"Yeah, like you've come across so many," said Ron, sarcastically. 

"Well, it was better than Wendy, and that's saying something."

"You fought with _her_?" 

"I wouldn't call it a fight. It was more like a training exercise."

"Oh, sure."

"But you lost, of course," said Hermione confidently.

Harry looked at her in surprise. "I did not!" he said. Then he thought for a moment. "Well, I didn't exactly win either," he continued. "I think it was a draw."

"But Harry, she's a Blue witch!"

Harry stopped walking. "A what?" 

Hermione sighed. "How are you ever going to learn your shields when you're off playing games with metal balls during the lessons?"

"Oh, I know how to do _that_," said Harry, as they resumed their pace. 

"Then how come you don't know what a Blue witch is?"

"I don't know. No one ever told me."

"Haven't you read up about shields if you know so much about them?"

"No, actually," Harry said as if only just realising. "We read up about pretty much everything else, but not shields. It was all practical work. Why?"

Hermione sighed, and started using the voice that meant she thought that she was explaining something incredibly simple to someone with an incredibly small IQ.

"Harry, what colour is Professor Little's shield?"

"Blue."

"Brilliantly observed. And the colour of your shield determines how strong your magical talent is, right?"

"Does it?" said Harry in surprise. "I never heard that. I thought it was something genetical."

"Well you were very wrong," said Ron with a laugh. 

"Oh, shut up Ron. Harry, blue is a rarity, because it's one of the most powerful shield colours you can have. It means she's one of the most powerful witches of the age."

***************************************

Harry's mind went blank. Wendy? He'd known she was good, sure, he'd known she used to be an Auror and that people had suspected her of being one of Voldemort's top agents, but this?

"After blue, it's…" Hermione's brow creased as she remembered, "purple, red, green, orange, yellow, pink, grey, brown and black. At least they suspect it to be black, because no one on that level of magic has actually been able to cast a shield…"

She continued in this vein as Harry's mind span. His shield was silver, where was it on the list? Had he mistaken it for silver when it had really been a light grey? Was that bad, or good? What was the average?

"We all got to cast our shields, it was a really good lesson…" Hermione was still saying. 

"Ok, what colour were yours then?" Harry asked challengingly. 

"Mine was red," said Hermione proudly. "A lovely solid red with no gaps or anything. Most people got orange though. That's normal for students that go to Hogwarts."

"What about you, Ron?" asked Harry.

Ron looked away, his ears flaming as red as his hair. 

"Ron?" Harry looked at Hermione and saw slight embarrassment in her eyes, too. 

"It wasn't something awful, was it?" he said anxiously. He knew how Ron would feel if it turned out he was a weak wizard as well as a poor one. 

"It was blue," said Hermione. "Blue with purple bits in it."

That just confused Harry even further. Ron, almost as strong as Wendy?

"But that's good isn't it?"

"Well, I'm proud of you, Ron," said Hermione, giving him a surprise hug. 

"Thanks," said Ron gruffly. By this time they had reached the portrait hole. 

"Hello there," said the Fat Lady, as she eyed them critically. "All prefects, I see. The password has changed. It is '_Esa Eslp Drows Sap'_."

"Right," said Hermione. 

"Hello, Harry dear," said the Fat Lady. "Good first day back?"

"Yes, thank you." Harry said politely.

The Fat Lady lowered her voice slightly. "You haven't seen that little black monstrosity around lately, have you?"

Harry laughed in what he hoped was an offhand way. "My Lord? He's probably chasing mice round one of the dungeons."

"I'm sure. He keeps popping out of here, when I've no idea how he gets in. I've half a mind to report it to Professor Dumbledore."

Harry thought that pursuing this conversation would only lead to more awkward questions, so he quoted the new password and entered the Gryffindor common room, which was already full of people. 

As soon as they entered, Harry was set upon by all the Gryffindors in their year, asking earnestly what he had been doing with the little metal device all lesson. 

After about an hour on continual evasive comments and answers to frequently asked questions like,

"Did it hurt you?"

"Did you have to destroy it?"

"How did you fight it without your wand?"

It was bedtime. As prefects, Harry Ron and Hermione were allowed to stay downstairs for as long as they liked, although all the sixth year prefects decided to go to bed early on their first night.

"Who's Your Lord?" asked Ron. 

"What?"

"Your Lord. Who were you talking about with the Fat lady?

"Oh, you mean _My _Lord. That's just his name. He's a cat who pops up from time to time."

"Maybe we should introduce him to Crookshanks," said Hermione. The animal in question was sitting stoically in Hermione's lap, enjoying her strokes and scratches immensely. 

Harry remembered Scabbers. "I don't think they'd get on," he decided. "So," he said, to break the mood. "Good summers?"

Ron immediately and almost automatically launched into a whole one-sided conversation about his holiday.

"… And _then_, you'll never believe this, but Fred and George bought me new dress robes. First hand ones. I checked them all over for curses before I put them on, and I was seriously expecting to turn into something the moment I did, but there really wasn't anything wrong with them. 

"Mum was very interested to hear where they'd got the money, but apparently, they've found someone who likes their pranks so much that they've invested a whole load of Galleons to give them a head start. 

"They're making out it's bagman, but me and Ginny know it can't be Bagman, because he doesn't have enough money to pay the rent, let alone lend money, but I mean, who'd be that stupid? To give Fred and George a whole pot of money? 

"Anyway, then we went to France for the weekend to visit Auntie Emily and Juliet, because she's at Hogwarts this year, and…"

And so it continued. Harry tried to listen and pay attention, put for some reason all he could think about was his own horrific first seven weeks of the summer, his 'tumble' with Dudley's gang, Hermione's phone call, the newspapers, his brief spell in hospital, and his final, glorious week at Hogwarts. 

Ron stopped suddenly. "Sorry," he mumbled. "It's not fair for me to go on about my holiday when you both had rubbish ones."

Harry looked up at Hermione. 

She looked about the same as he felt. She was clutching Crookshanks close to her, her cheeks were a little flushed and she seemed to be holding back tears. 

"I… I think I'll go to bed," she said shortly, and went quickly up the stairs to the girl's dormitories. 

"What's up with her?" Harry asked Ron, who stared at him.

"Don't you know?"

"Know what?"

"About what happened in Bulgaria?"

Harry was about to answer, "What happened?" before he remembered something. 

"Oh no," he said, and put a hand into his pocket. His hand closed around an envelope. 

Ron looked as it as he brought it out. 

"I forgot about this," Harry said, breaking the seal and pulling the parchment out. "That was the day after Mr. Anderson died."

"It was as well," Ron agreed, watching him open the letter. "So?"

Harry didn't answer. He was already reading the letter.

"Dear Harry,

I've just got back from Bulgaria. Yes, I know I said it was going to be a week, but things changed. I really, really thought Victor was the right guy for me, Harry. Only once I got out there, and I met his parents (who were really nice, by the way) and we were a real couple for a few days, I realised I didn't love him anymore. Victor felt the same way, and he broke up with me the day before yesterday. We both felt it was best if I just left before we embarrassed each other even more. 

I'm sorry to bother you when you're busy, but I thought you ought to know. I sent Ron an owl too. This is really embarrassing for me, so let's not talk about it once we get to school, Ok?

By the way, I'm a prefect, and so is Ron! Are you? How weird would it be if you were the third prefect? 

See you then, (and I hope you really are better and not just lying which you do quite a lot)

Love, 

Hermione."

Harry swore. 

"That's what I said," said Ron. 

"She left? Krum broke up with her and she flew back across the whole continent after a few days?"

"You're forgetting that she probably didn't use a ner-e-oplane," said Ron.

"Aeroplane," Harry corrected automatically, still mentally kicking himself for not remembering this letter. 

He'd been too caught up in his worries about the press and Dumbledore's interrogation of him and his dreams. Why was he always so selfish?

They sat in silence for a bit. 

"Harry?" Ron said after a while. 

"Yeah?"

"You know I said, about that idea I had over the holiday, right…?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, do you want to know about it?"

"That all depends on what it is, I suppose."

Ron smiled, reached behind him and pulled a book out of his bag. He tossed it to Harry, who read the front cover.

_'Intentional and Unintentional Magical Ties.'_

"Open it to the bookmark," said Ron. He was hanging on the edge of his seat, one knee clasped to his chest, as if worried as to what Harry would say.

It wasn't much of a bookmark. It was a piece of paper. 

Harry noticed with amusement that it was one of his own letters. It was dated four years previous – the first letter he had ever sent to the burrow. 

On the back a big scrawling word 'HARRY' was written in Ron's handwriting.

Harry turned his attention to the page his letter had been bookmarking. 

He read it through. 

Once. 

Twice. 

"What do you think?" asked Ron, quite seriously. 

Harry looked up at him. "Are you joking?"

"No. I think it's a good idea."

A pause. Another pause. 

Harry looked down at the page again. "Effects," he read aloud. "A very strong bond is formed. Occasionally shared feelings, thoughts, dreams, morphed powers and…"

"Telepathy," Ron finished for him. 

"Is that all?" Harry said sarcastically.

"There could be others. Not many other people have been mad enough to try it."

"Ron, this is crazy! No one is going to agree to this!"

"No one has to know."

"Hermione will slaughter us."

"What the eye doesn't see, the heart can't grieve over."

"Ron, she'll find out, even if no one else does."

"Then we'll just have to be extra careful, won't we? Look, you have to be looked after no matter what you say, and this is a great way of doing it. We can help each other through whatever turns up. It'll be a huge help to the wizarding community, if that makes you feel better."

Harry leant back in his chair, resigned. He looked at the diagram in the book and winced. "This is going to hurt like hell," he said. 

"Probably," said Ron. His face was set. He'd obviously spent hours, even days thinking about this, and his mind was made up. 

"When'll we do it?" asked Harry, in a last ditch attempt to change it.

"Now."

"_Now?_" 

"Why not? There's no preparation involved."

"All right then. _Where _are we going to do it?"

"Stop trying to avoid this. I've thought about that, too. It's obviously going to have to be in a bathroom of some sort, unless there' s a house-elf who doesn't mind helping students doing this stuff and then clearing up afterwards…"

"But all the bathrooms in the castle… someone's bound to come in…"

Ron grinned.

"Oh no." Harry said flatly. "No way."

"You got a better idea?"

"No, but-" 

"There you are then. Now hop off and get the cloak, just in case. I'll wait here."

Harry picked up his bag and went up the stairs as quietly as he could, trying not to laugh. Ron was obviously enjoying his moment of genius, and if he wanted to push Harry around for as long as it lasted. But Moaning Myrtle's bathroom…

After making sure that the large snake in his bag was asleep, for a while at least, Harry left it under the bed, grabbed the invisibility cloak and left the dormitory. Neville snored once, but none of the other boys made a move.

"Ready?" Ron asked when he got back down. 

"Ready."

"Got your wand?" 

"Yes."

"Right. Have we forgotten anything?"

"Ok, now it's you who's putting it off."

Ron turned away. He was shaking slightly. 

"Ron, if you don't want to do this, I don't mind, really I don't, it was your idea after all…"

"No way. I'm doing it. I know all the risks and I'm taking them, so there."

Harry laughed, and they climbed out of the portrait hole together, to make their way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where their lives would change forever.

** **Runs away really fast to avoid being killed, murdered, crucified, pelted with rotten tomatoes, and even worse, made to read a slash fic.** 

I need help! Snake names? Anyone? Remember there is potential for a lot of snakes here, so I'm going to need a lot of names…

Love your evil cliffie writer,

Laterose. **


	17. Cretus Cruor Duo Fraternis

**Finally, the chapter that this whole fic was written for in the first place. So if you don't like it, too bad, it's a keystone. Thanks to everyone who helped me get up to the reviews I have now, even if most were reactions to my disastrous author's notes (don't ask).

ANNOUCING: **Fifth year? I haven't done my homework!** Is now posted in French! Thank you nanouk! You can read it at 

Ok, ok, already! It SO has not been more than two weeks! It's only my first day back! But I am spending the whole day writing this chapter just for you ungrateful lot, so there.

It is very hard to write, and I'm making so many references to the books that they are now even more dog-eared than before. My cut and paste tools are also smoking from overuse.

 **

Harry lay still in bad, running his right forefinger across his left palm. His mind was too full, too busy, and too excited to shut down. 

He could hear Ron tossing and turning in the next bad. Harry wouldn't be surprised if neither one of them got a wink of sleep that night. 

He ran over the events of the evening in his mind, savouring every moment to keep in his memory forever. 

~

"Look out!" Ron hissed as he opened the door to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. "There's water all over the floor again. Looks like Myrtle's had a bad day."

"Tell me about it," said Harry, talking off his shoes and socks to avoid soaking them. He noticed his hand were shaking, and stuffed the in his pockets so Ron wouldn't see. 

"That one'll do," said Ron, pointing at a basin halfway down the room. "It's the biggest."

They were lucky perhaps, that the basins were near the floor. This meant that they could kneel on the floor beside it, after hanging their robes up on pegs and rolling their trousers to above their knees. 

Ron had balanced the book on the sink, propped up by the taps, and had just opened it to the right page, when Harry felt an icy touch in the back of his head. 

He spun around and came face to face with-

"Myrtle!" Harry choked, remembering at the last second not to shout. "Don't _do _that!"

Myrtle giggled uncharacteristically. 

"Fun though, wasn't it?" she said. "What are you two doing?"

Harry shot a quick look at Ron, who evidently decided that changing the subject was preferable to lying.

"Where'd all the water come from, Myrtle?" he asked her. 

"How should I know?" said Myrtle, her cheerful attitude evaporating in an instant. "Everyone _always_ makes such a big deal out of _water_. It's not like the water has _feelings._"

"Well, it is a little hard to wade through," Harry admitted, showing her the wet patches in his new jeans from kneeling down in the inch deep water. 

"Well, it's you problem what you do with you own clothes," said Myrtle, looking at them slyly out of the corner of her eye. 

"Yes," said Ron, taking the bait. "You don't have to worry about getting wet, do you?"

Myrtle glared at him for a second, then burst into tears and zoomed back into her favourite cubicle. 

There was a sound like the loo flushing and Harry and Ron got even wetter as a fresh wave of cold water swamped the floor.

"That was mean," Harry told Ron. He couldn't help feeling just a little sorry for Myrtle. It wasn't her fault she was dead, after all. 

"It got her out of the way, didn't it?" Ron pointed out. "Besides, she wanted us to say it so we'd feel sorry for her. Right then."

He looked up at the book. "Wash hands thoroughly," he read. 

They did so, carefully not meeting each other's eyes. 

"Make the cut using the following charm," Ron carried on. He drew his wand and looked up at Harry. "Last chance," he said. 

Harry nodded. "Let's do it."

Ron took a deep breath, held his hand out in front of him and whispered. 

"_Cretus Cruor Duo Fraternis_." *

Nothing seemed to happen at first, but when Ron tentatively touched the tip of his wand to his hand, he hissed in pain as a bright red drop of blood appeared. 

Despite the pain, Ron drew a straight line on his palm with his wand, the skin breaking apart in its wake. Blood poured as he held his hand out over the sink. 

Harry looked at his own hand. Now or never. 

"_Cretus Cruor Duo Fraternis_."

It didn't really hurt all that much. Certainly not as much as the Cruciatus curse, for example. Harry had had worse. 

All the same, it was the fact that he was doing it to himself that made it hurt. The fact that he could stop any second now, but he wasn't doing it…

The straight line of bright red blood streamed as Harry offered his hand to his friend. 

Ron looked up. Neither of them said a word, but at that point, an age-old power long forgotten through the centuries took over their will. 

Their eyes locked, they slowly clasped hands. 

**Ohhh, this would be such a good place to leave it. Hmmm. Nah.**

It was the most extraordinary feeling. It was at first like being torn apart into small pieces, and then like being compressed together, squashed into a tiny space all in one. 

The bathroom disappeared, and they were looking at endless, never ending blackness, they own hearts and mind spaced far apart as though they had never been one. 

~

And then, all of a sudden, they found themselves alone. 

~

_Ron was standing by himself in a room with blue walls. The walls themselves, and all the furniture and things within it, were blurred, and seemed to lack life somehow, as if he was in a painting long since faded.  _

_But he could hear quite clearly. _

_"No, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

_"Stand aside, you silly girl, stand aside now…"_

_"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead – Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"_

_The woman speaking suddenly dissolved into screams, and a strange, evil, shrill, voice was laughing. There was a flash of green light, and the scene disappeared. _

_His eyesight seemed to have improved, somewhat. Certain aspects of this new scene, a lavishly decorated and completely spotless living room, were still blurred, but there was one thing that was in absolute focus. _

_The woman standing before him. _

_She was thin, blonde, and seemed to have a rather extended neck. She was about three times Ron's size. She certainly didn't look like the sort of woman you would usually want to meet. _

_She was scowling impatiently, and she was looking straight at him._

_And yet, not at him. _

_Ron tried to figure this out. It was as if he was inside another's body, for he could feel that he had arms legs, eyes and the usual bits and pieces that made up a person, but it was not his own. _

_The actions he made were completely controlled by the one whose body he was occupying. It also wasn't hard to guess whose body it was, as a long black fringe was coming down over his eyes, and he felt the cold metal of glasses upon his nose. _

_He was, unmistakeably, a younger Harry Potter._

_"What do you want, boy?" snapped the woman, towering above him. _

_"Where did I get this scar, Aunt Petunia?" The little boy asked, pushing up his fringe to show her the lightning shaped mark on his forehead. _

_The woman (Harry's aunt, Ron now realised) flinched, not a little noticeably._

_"In the car crash when your parents died," she said stiffly. "And don't ask questions."_

_Ron felt a surge of anger at this, but the scene had already gone, and replaced by another, yet again a little less blurry than the last, as Harry's memory became clearer. _

_A man, so fat that he blocked the kitchen table almost from view, faced him. Somehow, Ron knew that he was angry because his hair, which had been shorn off the night before, was now as long and annoyingly messy as it has been before. Harry was scared and worried. _

_Ron recognised this man as the one he had met coming off the train each year. This was Harry's uncle Vernon. _

_As Ron struggled to extract the young Harry's feelings from his own, the large man grabbed him by the front of his too large shirt. "How did you do it, boy?" he demanded. _

_Without giving the boy time to answer, Vernon pulled him out into the hall and threw him into the cupboard under the stairs, which was full of spiders, several of which falling onto Harry's head as the door slammed. _

_Ron felt no fear from Harry about the spiders, but he himself was certainly not comfortable with them around. In fact, he was about to faint right away, when the scene changed yet again. _

_Something horrid, brown and bobbly was being forced onto his head. He felt revulsion, and annoyance. _

_The brown thing, which Ron knew to be an old jumper of Harry's cousin Dudley, was shrinking as Aunt Petunia continued to try and make it fit Harry. _

_Puzzlement and relief flooded Harry's part of Ron's brain as the blonde woman announced that it had most probably shrunk in the wash. _

_And so it went on. As the memories became more frequent, they flew by faster, in such rapid succession that Ron had difficulty separating that weird sense of Harry's thoughts and feelings from his own._

_When some event of importance or a particularly memorable one occurred, Harry's life conveniently slowed down. _

_Ron watched, listened, and felt as Harry worked his way steadily but painfully through Muggle primary school. _

_The incident with the roof of the school kitchens did nothing to improve his mood; neither did the accident with the Brazilian Boar constrictor, just before the end of Harry's last term. _

_But finally, ten years were over. Ron was pleased that he was going to Stonewall High Comprehensive next year. _

_This meant that he would be able to get away from Dudley and his gang. _

_Unfortunately, Ron also knew that Harry would be going to Hogwarts in September. _

_This made him very confused, and he let Harry walk him to the doormat to get the post as he tried to straighten out his mind._

_Then confusion washed over him like a tidal wave, and he looked down. His letter to Hogwarts. _

_Harry's memory of the next few days was painstakingly slow. Ron was very pleased indeed when Hagrid finally came to get his friend, and annoyed that he hadn't done sooner. _

_Eleven year old Harry, on the other hand, was full of such happiness that it made Ron's head ache. _

_However, this was peanuts compared to what it felt like when he met himself._

_Harry, to be fair, had not had very much luck getting onto platform nine and three quarters. What his Uncle had done there had not made Ron like him any more. _

_Harry heard a stranger's voice, but Ron recognised it as his own mother's. _

_"-packed with Muggles, of course-"_

_They both saw her then, the plump kindly woman with many red headed children. They all looked very much younger, especially Ron himself, who had a rather noticeable black mark on his nose. _

_"Now, what's the platform number?" asked Ron's mother. _

_"Nine and three quarters," said ten year old Ginny, minus the womanly body parts she had recently gained. "Mum, can't I go…"_

_There followed a sickly and embarrassing meeting between Harry and the Weasleys, after three of the boys had passed through the barrier between platforms nine and ten. _

_Ron saw younger versions of all the people he knew so well now, all getting onto the train and waving goodbye to all their parents. _

_He heard helped Fred and George load Harry's trunk onto the train, then listened to them telling his mother who he was. _

_(Ron could not believe Harry had heard that conversation. What utter weirdoes he must have thought them!)_

_And then finally…_

_"Anybody sitting there? Everywhere else is full."_

_Eleven year old Ron entered the compartment at Harry's nod. Ron watched himself pretend not to keep glancing at the other boy. He realised that he really was not all that good an actor. _

_The twins came and went yet again. _

_"Are you really Harry Potter?" the other Ron blurted out. Ron felt like punching him. _

_"Oh – well, I thought it might be on of Fed and George's jokes. And have you really got – you know…"_

_He pointed at Harry's forehead, and Harry pulled back his fringe to show the scar. _

_"So that's where You-Know-Who -?" _

_"Yes," Harry said. "But I can't remember it. "_

_"Nothing?"_

_"Well – I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."_

_What a complete berk you are, Ronald Weasley. _

_There was a lot of boring conversations, and plenty of self-pity from the young Ron, before Neville, and then Hermione came in.  _

_A brief encounter with the blond snail they'd all come to know and love, and finally the train stopped._

_The first year at Hogwarts flashed by. Revelations, ideas, feelings, all flew in and out of Harry's head, making Ron frequently dizzy so that he found himself wishing for something to make it slow down, even if it meant something unpleasant. _

_This did happen a number of times, giving Ron an uncomfortable rest. _

_The sorting, for instance, was interesting, as was the incident with the remembrall in their first week. _

_The first meeting with Fluffy passed, as did the thing with the troll in the bathroom and Harry's first Quidditch practice. _

_The first match of the year, Ron saw from a completely different point of view. He had always liked Quidditch, as would any normal teenage wizard, but Harry enjoyed it in a different kind of way._

_He'd been born to play since James Potter had sired him, and it was a part of him. _

_Ron saw Harry's whole family in the Mirror of Erised, and met Dumbledore two days later in the same room. They all rediscovered the Philosophers stone and Nicholas Flamel. _

_Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback was freed, and then Ron watched in horror as Harry met Quirrel first in the Forbidden Forest, and again in the chamber under the corridor on the third floor. _

_He was quite flattered at Harry's true feelings about his house during that first summer, until the second year started, and Ron started getting headaches again. _

_It had seemed at the time that the only really bad parts that year were the spiders and Riddle, but then Ron hadn't been the one whom everyone thought was the heir of Slytherin. _

_The Quidditch cup, and the Third year zoomed past in a flash, except the last part, which Ron watched with definite interest. He knew however, what was coming, and he waited with apprehension.  _

_At last, Ron was wandering around the maze used in the third task. He had passed the Sphinx, and the cup was just around the corner… _

_Cedric was there. Cedric was going to get there first…_

_Ron had since gotten over the shock of seeing Cedric Diggory alive and well, and watched with numbed admiration has Cedric made the ultimate offer. _

_"Both of us," said Harry, after a lot of confused rambling thoughts, which were, _

_Ron knew by now, rather trademark of his best friend. _

_"What?"_

_"We'll take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."_

_Cedric was staring at Harry as he unfolded his arms. "You – you sure?"_

_"Yeah. Yeah… we've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it together."_

_A pause, and then... "You're on."_

_When they both grabbed the cup at the same time, Ron felt the familiar tug of the portkey. _

_If he had had a stomach, Ron knew there would be no butterflies, but seagulls in it. _

_Wormtail, whom Ron remembered with no great kindness, restored the Dark Lord by cutting off his own hand and taking Harry's blood. _

_His blood is of a different use now, thought Ron, even as the tall thin body of Tom Riddle arose from the cauldron. _

_He examined his body with bony fingers. Ron's own feeling of fear was drowned out only by Harry's. Ron knew what would happen, the Harry of nine weeks ago did not. _

_The net of golden light emitting from Harry's and Voldemort's wands gave him a shock to tell the truth, as did the shades of Cedric, the old man, Bertha Jorkins and Harry's parents. _

_The whole event passed with Ron's mind practically frozen in abject terror. When they were finally back at Hogwarts, it was almost even worse.  _

_Finally, it was Harry's first summer away from Hogwarts. That first day was a blur, as was most of the rest of the time._

_Harry's memories of that summer were so full of pain, hunger, hurt and dejection, that they were hardly recognizable as real life. _

_Ron felt anger, sadness, and ultimately fear for his friend as he endured endless days, nights and weeks of pain and ridicule. The dreams made him feel as though he would be sick, until finally Hermione was there. _

_And a wand._

_"That's better," said Hermione, her tone icy. "Now let him go."_

_Dudley was usually terrified of wizards of all shapes and sizes. His summer spent with a broken Harry, however, seemed to have softened his fear. _

_He motioned to Malcolm, who stood up, keeping a tight hold on Harry's right arm, which was bleeding from some old wound, which had opened. _

_Dudley strolled over and grabbed Harry's other arm. Before Hermione could open her mouth to stun him (or worse) Dudley had whipped out his Britannia penknife and placed the blade at his cousin's throat._

_"Make a move," he told Hermione. "And I kill him." _

_Hermione shook a little, but kept her wand level. All Harry and Ron both could think was, 'what the hell is she doing here?'_

_"You wouldn't," said Hermione. No one missed the uncertainty in her voice. "He's your own flesh and blood."_

_"I've killed before, you know," said Dudley playfully. "Mice and birds. Cats sometimes. Small dogs. He's one of you. That makes him an animal. Why shouldn't I just… put him to sleep…?"_

_Harry yelped as the knife made a shallow cut across his neck. He didn't realize his eyes were pleading. _

_Slowly, defeated, Hermione lowered her wand. Dudley nodded to his stunned friends. "Wake them up."_

_With a tiny sob that no one could hear, Hermione raised the wand again. _

_"Enervate." All four boys sat up slowly. _

_"Come on," said Dudley. His gang followed him down the street, Harry still being towed along by Malcolm._

_Dudley waited until they were on the next street, then he signalled Malcolm to put Harry down. _

_The next few minutes passed in a blurry haze, in the midst of which his arm was broken, and his glasses smashed. _

_The next thing Ron knew, he was in hospital, Sirius and Hermione watching over him. _

_Sirius chuckled grimly. Were there tears in his eyes?_

_"Remus found a paper. I gave him a black eye when he tried to stop me charging out after those…" he paused for lack of a word suitable enough. "He managed to convince me you were more important. Well, I knew you were anyway, I was only thinking that I ought to… I mean…" and stopped again because he was simply tying himself up in knots._

_Harry shifted his and Ron's head as far as it would go without hurting, and looked at Hermione._

_"What happened?"_

_"You tell us," said Hermione. She looked a little angry now. "Harry, he was going to kill you!"_

_"Hermione, you haven't – "_

_"I told them everything. But more happened after didn't it? Your arm can't have been broken before, because your cousin and that other boy were holding onto you. And before… how long has this been going on for?"_

_Harry closed his eyes and ignored the question. Before anyone could prompt him he asked suddenly,_

_"How did you know that was Dudley?" Ron remembered Hermione's words. _

You wouldn't. He's your own flesh and blood. 

_"From your description," said Hermione simply. The way she said it somehow made Harry and Ron both think that she had only just managed to convince herself of how she had known._

_There was no point in hiding what had happened with Hermione. They already knew. Great._

_"He wouldn't really have killed me," said Harry, not meeting either of their eyes. "He was just really afraid of you, was all. And you needn't have cursed the others. I was fine on my own, really."_

_"Dragon dung. He cut your neck."_

_That was true. Sirius hissed as Harry raised a hand slowly to his throat and felt the mark that had hardened overnight. _

_At that moment there was a knock on the door. There were two doors, Ron realised, but before he had time to fathom questions like 'why isn't he in a proper ward?' Sirius had transformed into the huge black dog and was hiding under the bed._

_Harry groaned again when the door opened and Dumbledore entered his room. Behind him was a portly doctor in a white coat and black trousers. _

_Ron wasn't in a very good position to see anything lower than waist height, so his usual plan of staring at the floor would not work. He stared at the ceiling instead. _

_"So we are agreed," Dumbledore was saying to the Doctor.  _

_And now Ron was very confused, and settled his attention on trying not to look at him, but look at the interesting pattern of white and white stripes on the hospital ceiling. _

_"He'll stay at school for the remainder of the summer and I send anymore information to this address," said the not-quite-a-doctor in a monotonous voice of someone who was under influence to say it. _

_Harry didn't think it was a spell, just awe at being in the presence of his headmaster, who could be very awe-inspiring when he put his mind to it._

_"Yes indeed," said Dumbledore. _

_"And you confirm that a Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursely are responsible for these injuries?"_

_Of course they are! thought Ron. Convict them already!_

_"And their son!" put in Hermione. "Don't you dare forget him!" _

_Grunning nodded. "Ah, I see Harry is awake," he said jovially. "Your picture's in every household in England, young man. Nasty eye you've got there," he remarked, nodding at a spot just above Ron's view._

_Harry raised his and Ron's hand, and realised immediately why half his vision was blurred. The left lens of his glasses was missing.  _

Remember to duck the stick when in comes round, you don't want your other arm broken. Whack! Whoops, not quick enough. There's another pair of glasses to add to the endless list of things Dudley's always breaking.

_"It's honestly not that bad…" Harry tried. Ron realised that his friend was an idiot. _

_Hermione jumped up and said something that she would never normally allowed Ron to say in public. "Harry, your arm was broken!"_

_"Dudley got a bit overexcited."_

_"He was threatening me with killing you! That's illegal!"_

_"Give it up miss," said the not-quite-a-doctor man. "He's not telling." He turned to Dumbledore. "I suppose you'll update me if he comes clean? It is rather hard to construct a full trial without the witness."_

_"But of course, Mr. Grunning," said the Headmaster. _

_The man ran fingers through tousled hair. "Vernon Dursley eh… my brother sponsors his company, you know, great carpenter, my brother, I'm sure Mr. Dursley will be very excited to hear about that…"_

_"And very talkative too, I should imagine," said Dumbledore. "Hermione, your mother's waiting."_

_It was a dismissal, albeit a polite one. "Goodbye Harry. I'll see you when term starts. See you in a week." And she was gone, with a distressed look over her shoulder as she exited through the opposite door._

_As Dumbledore extended a hand towards him, Ron realised that Harry was fully clothed in what appeared to be hospital sweatshirt and trousers. They reeked of disinfectant. Ron supposed his other clothes must have been blood soiled. _

_He let Dumbledore drag him to his feet. He shook a little, but remained standing. He managed a weak smile. "Right then," said Dumbledore. "No need to see us out, Mr. Grunning, I'm sure you have a lot of work to do."_

_Grunning left with an awkward "thanks," and Sirius crawled out from under the bed._

_Dumbledore pulled out a glasses case from his deep robe pocket. It was shaped to fit exactly the outline of his half-moon spectacles. _

_"This will get us back to Hogwarts."_

_"Are you sure?" Harry asked tentatively, as he placed a finger over the case._

_Sirius grunted as he transformed and touched the thing as well, not meeting Harry's eyes. Ron barely had time to hear him say, "You'll have to trust us on that one," before the familiar tug at his navel bore them back to Hogwarts. _

_The meeting between Harry and Wendy was an annoyingly short one. Ron was a little hurt that Harry had not told him about his abilities when it came to wandless spells. _

_The rest of the week was a complete revelation to Ron. It passed slowly, the clearest of Harry's memories so far, as they were the most recent._

_ He learned of new spells and curses, of Harry's learning work far beyond the seventh year. _

_He learned of Sleeve, and he understood the words the snake spoke as clearly as they had been in his own language. _

_He discovered that Harry was an unregistered, fully-fledged animuchos. _

_Ron felt the different, yet equally glorious feelings of being cat, snake and owl, and felt Harry's urging to try more. _

_He dreamed the plot to kill Snape, and warned the potions master of it. _

_But the most astonishing thing of all was yet another matter. Ron watched all with utter perplexity and fear_, until he arrived, at last back in the bathroom, looking straight into Harry's emerald green eyes. 

~

_It had all been so happy so far. _

_Harry, who had long since realised what was going on despite them being different from the other memories he had entered, sat back and let Ron's life flash before his eyes. _

_He got over the initial strange feeling of seeing himself remarkably quickly, and then watched first, second and third year comfortably from inside Ron's head, not even bothering to separate Ron's thoughts and feelings from his own. _

_This turned out to be a problem when in came to the night after he, Harry, had been chosen as the forth champion of the Triwizard Tournament.  _

_The resentment, jealously and anger was so penetrating that Harry thought he might stop breathing right then and there. _

_It got no better once he and Ron had made up and those feelings were mostly gone, because Harry knew they had been there and could so easily be there again. _

_And then it was the summer holidays and Ron read up on magical ties. He had Harry in his mind all along while he did this. _

_He felt awful about what had happened at the forth task, and wanted somehow to rectify it. _

_They returned to school, where Harry listened to his own sarcastic comments aimed at Voldemort for the sake of the school, and truly realised how stupid they had sounded. _

_He sat through the lesson Professor Little had given the fifth years about shields, and only just had time to realise what the colour of his own shield truly meant. He decided to have a long talk with Wendy about that.  _

_He saw Wendy herself in a whole new light. Her long raven hair and bright blue eyes were now astonishingly attractive. _

_But over the whole time, ever since Ron and Hermione had sat, holding each other's hands at Harry's bedside after the forth task, there was a different feeling. _

_One, not of jealousy, but of something different altogether. Something that made Harry start to bear some of Ron's ill feeling. _

And then he was back in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, Ron's face still only a few inches away from his, their hands clasped tight over the blood filled basin. 

"You're in love with Hermione," Harry told him.

"You're a silver wizard," Ron said at the same time. 

There was a long moment of silence as both Harry and Ron tried to take in all they had learned in goodness knew how long. 

"And now we are one," said Ron quietly. 

"Blood brothers," said Harry, scarcely able to believe it. 

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"About what?" Harry looked Ron straight in the eyes, and realised that he looked even more tired out than he himself did. He could guess why. 

"Everything. This summer. Sirius and Remus, you being animagi…"

"Animuchos," Harry corrected him. 

"Whatever. About you being a silver wizard – Harry, those are rarer than dogs that talk!"

"I know that _now,"_ said Harry. "But Wendy never told me before."

"I know," said Ron. "This is going to confuse me after a while."

"There's no point in asking 'why didn't you tell me?' anymore, is there?" Harry said. "Because you've been in my head. You know why already."

"Yeah…." 

"Are you two quite finished?" It was Myrtle, leaning over the top of the cubicle and watching with interest. "You've been sitting there for _ages_."

~

Harry had no idea how he and Ron had got back to Gryffindor tower. Every muscle in his body ached, and his head was still pounding. He ran his finger over the cut in his palm even as he rolled over for the hundredth time. 

Already, as the book had warned, it was no longer a cut, but a long thin scar, reaching from the base of his thumb to his little finger. 

And on top of everything, Ron fancied Hermione. Harry wasn't all too sure how he felt about that. Maybe he understood why so little people had become blood brothers. Ron's feelings kept trickling into his, and it was decidedly uncomfortable. 

Harry turned over, and tried at last, in vain, to get to sleep. 

**

*Roughly – 'From Blood Two Brothers'

Oh yes! Well done me! A whole chapter in one day. Not much of a chapter, I know. 1st prize to the one who actually read all of that gibberish. 

I'd love to do a thanks list, but, well, lots of people have been complaining they want an update, and I have loads of people who have reviewed two or three times, and oh yeah, I can't be bothered. 

Easter hols are still on, so I hope you can look forward to a new chapter soon, with Tuesday's lessons which are:

Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology and Astronomy.

Hagrid has a surprise for you all!

Love Laterose. 


	18. That Thing We Have

**Goodness me, I think this is the fastest update for months! Aren't you pleased?

New Disclaimer: All references of and towards Xera and the Dryads belong to David Eddings, master of fantasy. Do not sue me for their use. Oh yeah, and Harry Potter's not mine either. 

Thanks all who reviewed, though I think some chickened out once they read about the Blood Bond. CHICKENS! 

I know there was something else I meant to say – OH yeah! Thanks to Reignbow and Phoenix Flight for the use of their Snake names! And for those who have not been used yet, do not despair. I mean to use them all before the end. Well, maybe all. 

This chapter is a rest chapter, a chance for me to write something that doesn't put a character in mortal danger. As fun as that is, it's tiring!! So sit back relax, and try to laugh! **

…

"God, you two look awful." Hermione greeted them as they made their way over to the Gryffindor table in Great Hall. 

"We had a little trouble sleeping," said Ron, glancing at Harry. 

Harry made a face at him. 'A little' was somewhat of an understatement. How he was going to get through the days lessons was beyond him. 

Harry had spent the rest of the night going through the vast encyclopaedia in his head for all the faces of Ron's family. It felt odd, now that he knew what having a family was like, not having one. 

Ron, on the other hand, had lain awake trying to remember all the Harry had learned during the last week of the holidays. 

Unfortunately, he didn't seem to have Harry's memory powers. The spells, charms and curses trickled away as fast as he could recall them.  

Only the main events of Harry's life so far stood out in his memory, as did Ron's in Harry's mind. 

One thing was for sure, if either of them were ever to play another game of chess against each other, it would end in complete stalemate. 

"Were you up all night talking?" Hermione accused them, buttering her toast. 

"Er... sort of," said Ron. 

"Well, you're not the only ones who didn't sleep," said Fred, sitting opposite Ron, George by his side as per usual. 

"Why?" asked Harry. 

George nodded towards the first year Gryffindor girls. All six of them looked completely exhausted, especially little Sarah Pordell, who had rings around her eyes to rival Remus Lupin on a bad day. 

"Poor kid," Ron muttered, grabbing a hot cross bun.

"Those are rather out of season, don't you think?" said Hermione, looking at the plate. 

"Doesn't bother me," Ron said, spreading marmalade all over it, while yawning explicitly. 

"Yuck, Ron, I can see what you had for dinner!" said Fred, in mock horror. 

"Post has come and gone," said George, with a wink at Harry, who came alert at once. 

"What happened?" 

"Nothing. All the teachers had their wands out, but nothing came for you, don't worry."

Harry didn't really pay any attention to the rest of the conversation. He nearly fell asleep in his cornflakes as it was, and he tried to concentrate on staying awake until the bell rang for Care of Magical Creatures. 

Hagrid was waiting for them by his hut. The Slytherins were already there. 

"Come on now!" said Hagrid excitedly to the Gryffindors. "You all right there Harry?" 

"Yeah, yeah," said Harry, rubbing his eyes. 

"Righ' then," said their teacher as they all clustered together in their respective houses, each keeping their distance from the other. "Got a great lesson lined up fer ye today…"

"That's what he said _last time,_" Malfoy could be heard saying from the back. "And look what happened _then_."

Despite it only being the first time Harry had heard Malfoy's voice since term had started, he still felt a prickle on the back of his neck as the cold slime of the words slid over him. 

"Tha's enough, now, Malfoy," said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. "Round the back now, all of ye." 

Rather dubiously, Harry, Ron and Hermione led the way around the back of Hagrid's cabin. What they all saw made both houses stop in shock. 

…

…

…

"Oh, hello!" 

It was the tiniest young woman any of them had ever seen. She wore what appeared to be a belted tunic and sandals. 

Her hair was a tawny colour, her grey eyes were curious, and her pale skin had a faint greenish hue to it. 

In her left hand she carried a strung bow with an arrow held to it. She wasn't pointing it at any one in particular, but the tip of the arrowhead was sharp enough to look a little menacing. 

She sat gracefully on a grassy knoll. The tunic showed rather a lot of leg, not to mention certain other things. 

"Aren't there a lot of you," she exclaimed happily, though there was a tone in her voice Harry didn't like. "And all so beautiful!"

"This is Xera," Hagrid announced to the stupefied students. "She's a Dryad." 

"Oh, they know that!" said Xera. "Don't you?"

Everyone just stared at her. 

"Oh," she said. "I suppose not."

"Xera lives in one of the forests in the Norwegian mountains," went on Hagrid. "She decided to visit me a couple of weeks ago. "

Xera got up and made her way up to Seamus Finnegan. She only came up to his chest, but Seamus backed away from her until he bumped into Lavender Brown. 

"I _like _this one," she said, her voice almost a purr. "Can I have it?"

"No, Xera," Hagrid said patiently. 

Seamus had gone white, and he looked up at Hagrid in horror. He tried to speak, but it just came out as a croak. His view of the little woman's body shape was a lot clearer now she was so close. 

"Hmm…" said Xera. "I'm not sure I like it all that much, actually. It's voice sounds like a frog." 

She moved down the immobile line of students. She stopped in front of Draco Malfoy, and made a face. 

"I don't like this at _all,_" she said. "It's little and yellowy. It looks like a leaf could squash it." 

Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles at this, but were stopped instantaneously when Xera turned away, certain areas of her tunic moving interestingly. 

The next boy she stopped at was, surprisingly, Harry. She put her hands on her hips and looked straight at him. 

Small as he was, Harry and Xera were almost eye to eye. 

"This one's skinny too," she contemplated. "But I like its eyes."

Ron, standing next to Harry, choked incomprehensively. 

Xera looked up at him, taking in his long nose on his rapidly reddening face, which was clashing horribly with his hair. 

She giggled. "This one's funny," she said. "Can I have it?" 

"You most certainly may not!" said a voice that was very familiar, and very irritated. 

Xera looked up, straight at Hermione. She held up her bow, but before she could do any fatal damage with it, Hagrid said, "Righ then. Books out everyone. Xera, give 'em a hand."

Hagrid had set up the benches they had used with the Skrewts the previous year, and they all sat down and opened their 'Monster Book of Monsters'. 

Harry was pleased to see that Malfoy was red in the face and spluttering from his own encounter with the Dryad. 

_Serves him right, the git,_ he thought. 

_~ What? ~ _

Harry jumped. He could have sworn that someone had just spoken from above his head. 

Convinced he must have imagined it, Harry went back to pretending to copy notes on Dryads from his book while really watching the little red headed woman flit from bench to bench, ignoring all the female students and making seducing comments to all the boys. 

"The Dryads are decreasing in numbers, due to the fact that there are no males of their kind." Hermione read aloud. "For reproduction, they are forced to catch human males. If the male does not please them, they will exterminate it."

She looked up at the small bow and arrow in Xera's hands. "Well, that explains a lot," she said with malice. "Why did she have to come _here_? She's even worse than the Skrewts."

"I think that's going just a little far, Hermione," said Ron, keeping his head down to hide his slowly fading blush. "At least Xera can't shoot fire out of her behind."

"I wouldn't put it past her," said Hermione, still irritated, but looking back at the book. 

"A Dryad lives only and as long as her tree, which sprouts at the same moment they are born. This can be up to thousands of years, depending on the size and species of tree."

"Oak," said a voice right behind Harry.

He spun round only to find himself faced with Xera the Dryad, smiling girlishly into his face. 

"What?" he spluttered. 

"He's an oak tree, back in the mountains. I miss him. I'll probably go back in a week or so." 

"Good riddance," Harry heard Hermione mutter.

"How do you know Hagrid?" Harry asked quickly, in case Xera had heard. "I didn't think he'd been anywhere near Norway in his life."

"Of course he has," Xera laughed. "He only came for the first time a month ago. He came to see Helanthion and the others."

"Sorry?"

The Dryad sighed. "Giants. They've lived in our forest for a while. Not as long as me."

"_Giants?_" exclaimed Ron. "You mean, _the _giants?"

Xera shrugged. "Maybe."

"So who's Hel… Hela…"

"Helanthion. He's the main giant. I like him."

Hermione blanched, very noticeably. Xera laughed when she saw. "Not like _that_. They're _far _too big. Still, it might be interesting…"

Hermione scarpered, mumbling about having to ask Hagrid something. 

As soon as she had left, Xera giggled and skipped over to the next bench, leaving Harry and Ron facing each other over their copies of 'A Monster Book of Monsters'.  

Harry watched her go, trying to ignore the more fascinating areas of her tunic. 

_Maybe Hermione was right,_ he thought. _I think she _is _worse than the Skrewts. _

_~ Harry?~ _

Ok. That time he had definitely heard it. And it wasn't from above his head, as he had thought previously, it was from _inside_ it. 

He looked down to meet Ron's eyes. 

"Was that you?" he whispered. 

"That depends," Ron whispered back. "Was that you?"

_Hello?_ Harry asked silently. 

Ron jumped about three inches off the bench. "I don't believe it!" he croaked. "It worked!" 

"What worked?" Hermione asked, sitting back down beside him. 

"Oh, nothing," Ron said quickly. 

Luckily, Hermione was too engrossed in complaining about Xera to press the issue. 

"And then I _asked _Hagrid about the giants, and he just said that it was between him and Dumbledore! That's so typical of him isn't it? But my guess is that he went to see his mother, Fridwulfa, and ask all the giants if they want to be on our side this time."

_We had already worked that out, _Harry remarked. _I wish she'd give it a rest. My head still hurts. _

~ _Don't you mean your hand? ~ _

_Both. _

There _was _a dull ache ensuing from the fresh scar running across his palm, like jungle drums.

~ _I think she's kind of cute. ~  _Ron told Harry as Hermione continued to prattle on. _~ Xera, that is. ~ _

_You wouldn't say that if she had you cornered with that bow of hers._

_~ I would if it would make her happy. ~ _

When at last they packed up their books at the end of the lesson, Hermione said, "Are you two okay? You've been awfully quiet all day."

Harry and Ron looked at each other. 

"Yeah," said Ron. 

"Sure," said Harry at the same time. 

"I forbid you two to stay up late tonight," said Hermione, fingering her prefect badge with a smile. 

It turned out that Harry and Ron were indeed, very quiet for the entire day. 

When lessons were over and they made their way up to Gryffindor Tower, Ron asked Harry,  ~ _What are you going to do about Sleeve?_ ~ 

_What?_ Harry had forgotten just how much Ron knew. Namely, everything. 

~ _Sleeve. What are you going to do about him? ~_

_Oh, I don't think I need to do anything. He can take care of himself. I hope._

_~ What about the other one? ~_

Harry groaned inwardly. Ron heard, and laughed out loud. 

"_Now _what is it?" Hermione demanded. "You two have been doing that all day, quiet as anything, and then shocking me with randomly laughing or whatever."

"We're just tired, Hermione," said Harry, while telling Ron, _We need to work on this._

_~ You're telling me. So, what are you going to do about that other snake? ~_

_Well for a start I have to name him so we don't have to keep to calling him 'that other snake'. _

_~ He _is _a he?_ ~

_As far as I know. Any ideas?_

They sank into chairs around a table in the common room. Hermione went upstairs to get extra parchment. 

"I rather like Azrith," Ron said at last. 

"Where did that come from?"

"I dunno. It just popped into my head, for some reason."

"Azrith… well, I guess it's as good as any. Keep up the random poppings - we might need them."

"Do you really think You-Know-Who will send any more?"

"It's likely."

"Where are you going to keep them all?" 

"Don't ask me."

"What are you talking about?" 

Harry jumped. Juliet Weasley had jumped in front of them all of a sudden, very nearly giving Ron a heart attack, as he felt shock that was not his own. 

"Juliet!" Ron gasped. "Don't _do _that!"

The eleven year old grinned. "You're no fun anymore," she said. "You got old."

"It's called 'maturity'," Ron growled, sitting straight again. 

"Ron, I hardly think that you can be called mature," said Fred, galloping over. "I, on the other hand, have been mature since I was born."

Everyone in hearing distance snorted loudly. Fred ignored them, and proceeded to hoist Juliet onto his shoulders. He balked under the weight, and the girl shrieked. 

"Put me down now!" 

Fred didn't need to be told twice. He relieved himself of his burden, flashed a smile, and walked off.

Harry realised for the first time that there was another girl standing behind the red head. She was small and dark with long black hair in plaits down her back. 

"Oh, Sarah, have you met my cousin?" said Juliet, jovially. "Ron, this is Sarah Pordell. And this is Ron's best friend, Harry Potter."

Sarah's eyes widened considerably at Harry's name. Ron looked properly at her, and remembered a dream from a couple of months back. Harry had been right. Sarah Pordell did indeed look just like her mother. 

…

…

…

The next day was more than a complete disaster. The first problem was that the brown owl reappeared at breakfast that morning. It carried a completely black envelope in its claws. 

Before Harry could even move, Wendy blasted it backwards out of the window, then waved at him jovially across the hall. 

The first thing Harry did when he got to Defence Against the Dark Arts that morning was have a whispered conversation with his teacher who had so embarrassed him during breakfast. 

In the end, Wendy agreed to letting Harry sit in on that morning's lesson, besides, she said, she didn't have her little metal ball any more. 

When faced with the question as to why she had thought that Harry wouldn't find out about the shields sooner or later, she replied simply, "Oh well, I guess I didn't think about it."

Harry, on the other hand, decided early on that he'd have been decidedly better off with another round from the metal ball. 

The first thing Wendy did was insist that he show the class his shield. This caused several accidents among the class involving vanishing chair legs, spilt ink and broken quills. 

Hermione, quite promptly, fainted, and had to be revived by setting Neville's broken quill alight and waving it under her nose. 

When she saw that Ron obviously wasn't surprised by Harry's remarkable feat of power, she berated them both so thoroughly that they both decided that a duel with Wendy would be preferable to it. 

("I KNEW it! I KNEW you were hiding something from me – THAT'S what you were talking about all Monday night –")

This was perhaps lucky, as Professor Little next announced that this was precisely what she was about to do, this time, with Harry. 

This was no big shock to Harry, considering Wendy's sick sense of humour, but he really thought that she might have let off just by shocking them only once. 

Luckily, she let him have his wand, for which he was grateful. He also stuck to the simpler spells and curses, ones even Neville had heard of. As a result of this, Harry lost, rather miserably. 

"You let me win,"  Wendy accused him as the rest of the class filed out, chattering excitedly. 

"So?" said Harry, glad that Hermione was already out in the corridor and out of ear shot. "I think that I ought to keep most things a secret for the moment. That way I can surprise my real opponents."

"All right," said Wendy. "But you're taking all the fun out of it. You've been talking to Remus too much."

_And Sirius_, said Harry silently. 

~ _Someone ought to tell her ~ _Ron replied. 

_Don't look at me. Sirius can do it himself._

_~ God help him. No one else will. ~_

Harry didn't know anything solid about his lessons with Wendy and his Recitals with Remus, but after that lesson Wendy told him that both would commence the following Monday. 

"Give you a chance to limber up before I start to pound you," she joked. "I want to see you reading in your spare time, mind. "

"Don't worry," Harry told her. "Hermione will pester me thoroughly enough that I won't even try to do anything else."

Both Harry and Ron slept through History of Magic. Completely ignoring Hermione's new 'no talking' rule, they had both been up late into the night, lying in bed, honing their telepathic skills to perfection. 

Ron thought that to call it telepathy was annoying, because it sounded too 'Muggle'. Instead, he simply called it 'That Thing We Have'. It drove Harry mad, but he put up with it anyway. 

Azrith had slithered off, much to Ron's disappointment, but Harry practised sending pictures by mind, which was fun and interesting once they got it right at last. 

They also discovered that they could see through each other's eyes, like they had during the process that had made them blood brothers. This rather startled Harry the first time he tried, but they had a good practice at that too. 

Then, at Ron's insistence, Harry had got out of bed at one o'clock in the morning to show him My Lord, Quill, and the little black snake that Ron christened Pitch. 

As a result, neither of them had got a huge amount of sleep for the second night running. 

After lunch, which was mostly spent trying not to listen to Hermione rave about Harry's silver shield, Harry and Ron ascended the tower to Professor Tralawny's Divination Classroom.

"Good day to you," said a voice from behind the purple mist. 

Harry sat back in his armchair, and prepared himself for a long, boring ride. 

…

Well, that's over. Thanks again to Reignbow and Pheonix Flight. 

Kind of a short thanks list. I didn't give people time to review properly. **Grin** 

Here Be Thanks:

Chaser

SlytherinAtHeart: Sorry about my spaces. However, I find it easier to read in this format, and several people I have asked say the same. Thanks for your review!

Adrianne

Me

August wind: I like keeping Hermione in the dark. It's more fun that way – wait till she finds out!

Riser: I don't know about acting differently, but they just might be _thinking _differently… get it? Get it?

FleccaHPfan: Well done, first prize to you.

Marie: Myrtle is a fun character to write. I really want to bring her into the story more. 

Anonomus: I don't think third year counts, as he wasn't in any mortal danger. How do you mean, changed personalities? Please let me know so I can correct it, I am trying to keep them as much in character as possible!

Bananafanayou

Hrei-siesn

Ernie Prang

Beth Weasley

Jordan

Shells: Don't worry, it isn't never ending. It just doesn't have a coherent stop.

John: You like that too, huh?

Charma1219

Skahducky: First prize to you too. Ok, so more people read the lot than I had expected…

Hplovars: Hey! An enthusiastic fan!

Satans lil sis: Weird good or weird bad?

Ian

Litine

Dodo: Thank you!!

Princess55

Windswift: Oh she'll kill you all right. Just in a different way than you were expecting. 

JuniperRose07

Lanfear & Adrianna

Fain Oakenbringer

Greeneyes: Why do you think I should up the rating. There's no sex and not all that much violence.. yet. JKR's Harry Potter is G, isn't it?

Amerz: I haven't decided on romance yet, but it looks like r/h.

Shinystars007

Lady Valura

Amy

Pheonix Flight: Thanks a million for your names! I'm thinking of using some of the others as well. 

Ssjgoddesschico

Latke Girl: Oh that's ok, I love the Lion King. 

Lupin's Neice AJ

K.H.T.

Ooh, that was fun. Haven't done a good thanks list in ages. Hope you all like this chapter. School will start soon so don't get your hopes up for more immediately. 

~* Love Laterose *~


	19. The Man With the Beard Around the Next C...

**Author's Notes:

1. I have just discovered the rather abnormal way my fic appeared on screen on fanfiction.net. I have to tell you that I didn't know about this before and I accept that it looks kinda… triple spaced. Unfortunately I do not know how this happened. I think it may have something to do with the length of the chapters, since none of my other fics have this problem. I can assure you that when I type it is only one single space between paragraphs, and if anyone has any ideas about this I would only be too glad to hear them. Otherwise… like it or lump it!

2. IMPORTANT: I have just got a brand new computer and didn't copy my mailing list onto disk before I erased all the information from the old one (sorry!) As a result I will have to start again. If you want to be on the mailing list, please tell me in a review, otherwise you will be receiving no more news about Fifth Year. I'm really sorry about this but stuff happens. Thanks!

3. Title. I have been receiving a few complaints that my title is getting a little inappropriate for the content of the story so far. Do you all agree with this? If so, and you want to tell me, let me know BUT you must give me an idea for a new title. It's only fair.

Phew, now that that's all over, on with the fic! Trelawny, new character and more animal forms for Harry! And that's the way uh-huh, uh-huh, I like it. **

*

Professor Trelawny emerged from behind a silken drape. 

"Good day indeed," she went on. "I trust the morning's… _activities_, were not too strenuous?"

There were various mumbles of "No, miss," and "Yes, they were, can I go back to bed, please?"

Professor Trelawny either did not, or pretended not to hear the latter. She sat in her own armchair, surveying the class with her large, bespectacled eyes.

"This term, we will be reviewing the art of crystal gazing. We shall be trying, instead of letting our inner eye to wander freely, to See something of our own choosing. Please, collect your orb, and search the crystalline depths for a person or place that you wish to observe. This is a different type of divination, as we a surveying the present, not the future."

Harry decided that this was probably a good thing, unless he _chose_ to look for Death Omens. This seemed highly unlikely. 

He and Ron got their crystal balls, and set about trying to See something behind the fog. 

Harry willed the ball to show him what Sirius was doing now. He hadn't seen his Godfather since the hospital, and he had been too tired and busy lately to contact him. 

However, the crystal ball remained as stubborn as ever. It showed nothing except the usual swirling white mist. 

After about an hour, Professor Trelawny told the class to tell her about what they had seen. Lavender went first, spouting a story about her parents shopping in Diagon Alley, the people they'd met and what they'd bought. 

Parvati begged to go next, and Harry and Ron had to sit through yet another endless list of the music that her boyfriend had been listening to, and all the things he'd been writing about her in his diary. 

~ _And we thought we'd made up some tall tales, ~_ said Ron. 

_Tell me about it._

When asked what he had seen in the crystal ball, Dean Thomas spluttered and answered, "Oh, er… nothing."

Professor Trelawny frowned and warned him that a man with a beard would be waiting for him around the next corner. 

Dean made a face at her as soon as she'd turned her back. 

~ _Now I wonder why she didn't See that?? ~_

That, my friend, is the greatest mystery of them all… 

Professor Trelawny spun round when Harry and Ron burst into laughter. 

"Harry," she said icily. "Tell us what _you _saw, when you looked into the orb."

And her globe-like eyes met his. Something slammed into him like a ton of bricks. 

~

_"I don't know about this," Sirius was saying. "I don't know about this at all." _

_Sirius Black, despite his less than perfect living quarters at that moment, was looking a little better for wear than he had when he had escaped from Azkaban prison two years previously.  _

_When Harry had seen him in the hospital, his now chest length mop of black hair had been casually tied back into a pony tail, a sign of two months soft living with his best friend, Remus Lupin. _

_Somewhere along the lines, however, he had lost the tie, and now his hair hung around his face in not as much waves as piles. _

_His face had more colour to it, and he looked healthy enough to pass for any normal man in the street. _

_The only really odd things about him were that he was sitting in a cave in Edinburgh, and he had a Hippogriff by his side. _

_Sitting across from him in the aforementioned cave was Professor Dumbledore. He was seated quite comfortably on a chair he had conjured up for himself. _

_The cave was barer than one might have thought. It contained supplies of food and water in dragon skin bags to stop them from spoiling. In one corner was a pile of rags for sleeping on, and this was the only furniture in the place, except for Dumbledore's newly positioned chair. _

_At the entrance to the cave, which had been specially chosen as it could not be seen easily unless you knew what you were looking for, were piles of rocks, supposedly placed there to keep out the downpour of rain, which was currently soaking the rags in the far corner, oblivious to the rough obstructions. _

_"How long?" Sirius asked, stroking Buckbeak absentmindedly. _

_"Until Sunday at the latest," said Professor Dumbledore. "The new strongholds will be opened on Friday. Aurors will be moving in on Monday to take the wards on this one down. You don't want to be here when that happens."_

_Sirius nodded his agreement, and looked around the cave. "This would be a lot easier if I could do magic," he said. _

_"I will try to make it more comfortable for you when I leave," the Headmaster promised. _

_"I've had worse," Sirius reflected. "It's quite a nice little place really. If only I still had my Key…" _

_"We must dwell not on the 'if only's," said Dumbledore. "I will see you on Sunday, with all hope."_

_"Yes, Headmaster." And with that, Dumbledore went out of the cave, and disapparated. _

~

"Harry?" 

He jerked awake to find himself still staring into Professor Trelawny's eyes, which were rather like crystal balls themselves, now he came to think of it."

"Come now, Harry, don't be shy, tell us what you saw."

Harry looked up at Dean, who shrugged. It appeared that he hadn't been out for more than a split second. 

"Er… I… I saw Professor Dumbledore."

One of the girls giggled, Professor Trelawny's eyes widened. 

"You were looking for Professor Dumbledore? Was there any particular motive for this? Are you worried about him perhaps?" 

"Er…no, I just… well…"

"Where was Professor Dumbledore at this time?"

"He was in Scotland."

Harry _knew _that much, Sirius had told him before that he was in Edinburgh. 

Lavender laughed outright at this, and Professor Trelawny smiled. "Don't be silly, Harry.  Why would Dumbledore be in Scotland in term time?"

Harry couldn't answer, so she turned away and listened to Seamus Finnegan relate an obviously made up story about Disneyland. Despite the fact that Trelawny didn't have a clue what he was talking about, she smiled encouragingly at him when he told her about the hundred people who had just died in a crash. 

Harry looked at Ron, who met his eyes squarely. 

_~ Harry, what happened? ~_

_I dunno… I just looked at her, and then I was watching Sirius and Dumbledore in Edinburgh…_

_~ Oh, that's where it was. ~_

_WHAT?_

_~ I saw it too. ~_

_You sure?_

_~ If you heard them talking about strongholds and Aurors and keys. I didn't understand a second word they were saying. ~_

I understood that Sirius can leave on Sunday. Do you think he'll come here? 

_~ It's unlikely. Remember Professor Little. ~_

_Sirius needs to talk to Alula sometime._

_~ Well, I guess so, but - ~_

"Ronald Weasley. Perhaps you would like to relate to us your Sights for today."

…

…

An hour later, Harry and Ron came out of Divination. Harry was still trying to figure out the vision; Ron was red in the face from suppressed laughter. 

"I can't believe she _bought_ it!" Ron spluttered for the hundredth time, except this time out loud.

"That was brilliant, Ron," said Dean, thumping him on the back. "Better than Seamus' rubbish about the Peter Pan ride."

Seamus punched him. "Well, I didn't see you coming up with anything."

"But, honestly," Dean insisted. "I think those were real tears in his eyes."

"Do it again, Ron, go on!" squeaked Neville. 

Ron grinned, then put on a sorrowful expression and wrung his hands. "Oh... Professor Trelawny, it's so awful… my brother Charlie… it's… he's… he was stampeded by a dragon... and he's in a coma…"

Seamus, Dean and Neville burst out laughing. Harry joined in, playing Professor Trelawny. 

"My dear Ronald, how awful. Do convey my condolences to your poor parents. Though I must warn you, the future is bleak."

"A most accurate impression, old boy."

They had reached the end of the stairs, and turned the corner. A tall man in his early fifties, perhaps, was standing there, and it was he who had spoken. He also had a long, curly grey beard. 

Dean went white, and backed away, mumbling incoherently. Then he fled. 

"Oh, I say," said the man. "What's wrong with him?"

"I think your beard scared him," said Neville, who was looking a little nervous himself. 

The man laughed. "Another one of Sybil's ostentatious predictions, I presume?"

"Er… yeah," said Seamus. "I'm… I'm going to get some homework done." 

He and Neville scuttled off, glancing back over their shoulder every few steps. 

The bearded man coughed, but did not move. "Ahem… you must be Harry Potter," he said, holding out his hand for Harry to shake. Harry took it, a little dubiously. "I was told that I could find you here."

"Can I help you with something?" Harry asked. He wasn't all too sure whether he trusted this man. 

"Well…" The man glanced at Ron. "I've just been to see a friend of yours who has a certain… canine, er – acquaintance, shall we say…"

Harry froze, and let go of the man's hand quickly. His hand went instinctively to his wand.

"Oh, no, it's nothing like that, old boy," said the man with a chuckle. "I've known about that for months, although I had to be practically held down while they explained it to me…"

"What do you want?" Ron asked bluntly.

The man laughed outright at this. "Forgive me… I don't believe I've introduced myself… Mundungus Fletcher, at your service, Auror, Order of Merlin, first class, though I don't like to boast about that…"

 _It looks like we've got another Lockhart on our hands, _Harry warned.

_~ No, ~ _said Ron. _~I've heard of this guy. He's a top class Auror, though he's been out of service for years – too old. If he knows about Sirius, he's probably on our side. ~_

"Ok," said Harry out loud. "So, was there something you wanted?"

The old man suddenly became serious. He looked Harry full in the eyes. "I see you still don't trust me. Not completely," he added when Harry opened his mouth to protest. "I will take you to someone who will convince you."

He looked up at Ron. "He's coming too," Harry said firmly. 

"That makes sense, I suppose," said Mundungus Fletcher, scratching his beard. "Safety in numbers. You'd make a good Auror, young Potter." 

For some reason, this seemed to amuse him. He motioned for them to follow him in a direction Harry soon began to recognise. They were going to Remus' room. 

He relayed this news to Ron, who said, ~ _Good. Maybe then we'll get some answers. ~_

_Why did he think it was funny when he said that about me being an Auror?_

_~ Well, you don't look like one, do you? I mean, no offence, but you don't really have the physique. ~_

_That's not my fault._

_~ I know. ~ _

Mundungus Fletcher had evidently been told the password to Remus rooms, because he bent down to whisper to the wolf-like gargoyle at the entrance. 

~ _I remember now, _~ said Ron as they stepped inside. 

"Mundy! Back so soon?" said Remus, emerging from the bedroom with a large book under one arm. "Ah, Harry, and Ron…"

"It's ok," said Harry quickly. "He knows everything."

Remus' expression grew stern. "Harry, I though we told you – "

"He didn't tell me," said Ron, coming to the rescue. "I found out." This was, at least, partially true after all. 

"In two days?" said Mundungus Fletcher in disbelief. For a moment Ron thought that he was going to yell at him, but instead he grinned and said, "Well done, old chap."

Harry laughed silently. Ron heard him and struggled to keep a straight face.

"We're here for some introductions, Remus," said Fletcher, with a pointed look at the other man. 

"Ah," said Remus, again. "Harry, Ron, this is Mundungus Fletcher. He's completely on our side, and he knows about Sirius. The only ones other than him who know are Arabella Figg, Barnaby Dunst and Helena Smithers. Some are other friends from when we were at school, others are Aurors, working for Dumbledore."

He didn't say who was which, but his face suddenly twisted into a slightly twisted guilty expression. "He also knows about your Animuchos abilities, Harry."                     

"WHAT?"

"I must say, it's completely fascinating," said Fletcher, lifting one hand to scratch the back of his neck under his hair. 

"Mundy is an animagus, Harry," said Remus. 

"And after dear old Minerva, the only registered one in Britain," said the Auror. "Remus has called me in to see if I could teach you anymore than you are teaching yourself, seeing as I was in the area, don't you know."

Harry nodded slowly. 

"Now, the first thing I want to know is, can you communicate with another animagus while in a form, as other animagi can?" 

Harry thought about this, but had to confess that he didn't know the answer. When he explained that this was because he had never tried it before,  Mundungus smiled jauntily. 

"Jolly good!" he said. "Gives me a chance to brush off some of the old rust." He made a stance as if he was ready to transform, but then he added, "er, Harry… I'd be grateful if you took a form that _wouldn't _rip me to shreds in the real world. From what you say of your experience, I don't think you've had enough practise with temptation."

He transformed into a magnificent falcon perched on a chair, with wide, feathered wings and a proud expression. Harry looked at him, trying not to show his longing for the various splatters of bright colours which occurred occasionally among Fletcher's plumage. 

_Fletcher,_ he thought suddenly. _How ironic._

~_If you say so,~ said Ron. _~It'd better be Quill.~__

"Quill, then," said Harry out loud.

"What?" said Remus, interestedly. 

Harry didn't answer, but transformed into the large black owl. He fluttered up and settled on a different chair to the other bird.

"Quill," Ron explained. "We're naming all of Harry's forms. In the long run, it'll help keep track of them all." 

_Clever, _said a voice inside Harry's head that wasn't Ron's. He looked up at the falcon sitting opposite him. 

_It makes sense, I suppose,_ said Harry back. If he had had a mouth, he would have grinned. He was however, a little worried about this. 

Harry could hear Ron when he was in his animagus form. Other animagi, like Fletcher, could hear Harry. Did this mean that when Ron spoke to Harry, other animagi would be able to hear him whilst in their forms, and vice versa?

Ron seemed to be thinking the same thing. Harry tried as best as he could to go inside himself, like he did when he transformed. 

What he saw put his mind at ease. His mind was now in five parts, one, the largest, his own, the second largest, his and Ron's, another now had bits of Mundungus Fletcher floating around in it, and the fourth, Sirius and Remus. Harry supposed this connection must have been made when they had first spoken 'mind to hand'. 

The fifth path in his mind was blocked, because he could access it only in dreams. He knew, but wished he didn't, what was behind that door. 

Luckily, all five parts of his mind had very thick barrier's between them. Unless he let them go slack, one should not leak into the other. 

It took him such a while and such concentration to work this out that at first he didn't realise that Mundungus Fletcher was talking to him, again. 

The experiments continued in this vein for a while. Harry transformed into each of his three animals under everyone's eyes. He had never had so many people watching before and he had to concentrate hard not to mess it up. 

After that, Mundungus informed him that he had 'spanking good control, old boy,' and told Remus that Harry didn't really need to know any fine details about the animals he changed into. 

This pleased Harry, but not Remus, who watched as Mundungus took Harry through the steps of becoming the magnificent falcon, except of course, that he was completely black. 

He was, all the same, a terrific looking bird, and Ron, after a minute's deliberation with Remus, named him Jet-wing. 

Other animals followed, once Harry had summoned his animal books from the dormitory, doubtless startling a few people on the way. He'd had to use a Returno Minimus because he wasn't _quite _sure where he had hidden them. He unintentionally impressed Mundungus Fletcher, who started asking exactly what levels of magic he was on.

"Stick to the task in hand, Mundy," Remus had told him. 

So he did. Harry's next animal was not a bird, because, as Ron pointed out, they were going to run out of names for those soon. So he tried something bigger. 

Within seconds, a coal-black lion stood proudly in the middle of the room. 

"I… think you're making the floor creak," said Ron, and Harry changed back, grinning. 

"Night-mane," he said. 

"Night-mane?" Ron repeated sceptically. 

"Well, it's better than Quill. Trust me, it just feels right."

"What about a dog, Harry?" asked Fletcher. "A big, shaggy one. You could pass for Sirius' twin."

"Are you mad?" said Harry. "What if Wendy walks in? She'll do her nut!"

"You think she would have been altogether pleased if she'd sauntered in to find a bloody great lion in here? Take the risk, old chap."

But Harry refused. That was Sirius' shape, he didn't want to use it. Instead, he retried the mouse he'd managed the first time he'd transformed fully for the first time, before he'd known he was an Animuchos. 

Ron named him 'Darkclaw' before Remus asked Harry to change back because he was experiencing urges to kill the black rodent in front of him. Mundy patted him sympathetically on the back before forgetting about it completely and asking Harry excitedly whether he would be able to do fish if he took him down to the lake. 

_How this guy to be an Auror, I'll never know,_ said Harry as he answered as calmly as he could. 

~_Don't underestimate him, ~ said Ron, adamant to the end. ~__He's the fiercest fighter in a pinch. ~_

_I don't recall you ever seeing him,_ Harry snapped back, before changing into a black frog with a 'pop'. 

They called him simply 'Web'. Trying to find different ways of saying 'black' was starting to become tricky.  


	20. Sleeve's Triumphant Return

**Chapter 20!!! Finally a milestone! I hope it's a good one. 

My mailing list is building again, so please tell me if you want to be on it. 

I've decided not to change the title. You're right, the story swerves from it – but then so does the Goblet of Fire so there's no problem there. 

I hope you enjoy this chapter, as you know it has taken me WEEKS in dribs and drabs because I'm working all the time!!

Ahem, oh yeah, as well as being posted in French by nanouk, Fifth Year is now being translated into Dutch by Ilonka. So loads of thanks to you, and that's where to go if you want to read this fic in either of those languages. **

He'd been putting elastic bands around the daffodils when he'd caught a chill. 

He'd done it so many times, there was a kind of rhythm to it – grab, bend, twist, release, and so on. 

_Over and over he did it, wishing there were less of the flowers in the garden. _

_He'd always liked daffodils, to a certain extent, but there was something very irritating about having to look after them so much. _

_Grab, bend, and twist…_

_A drop of rain fell onto his hand. He looked up at the steadily blackening clouds. _

_It was hardly warm to begin with, and he was only wearing a too-large T-shirt and jeans which were soaked through and clammy with dew. _

_He'd been trying to forget the cold, concentrating on his work, occasionally drifting into a daydream about going back to school, but if it rained…_

_He kept working. Grab, bend, and twist…_

_It started spitting. Please don't let it do more than that, he thought as he wound an elastic band round, and round…_

_Snap! He pulled his hand back and sucked it. The band had broken while he hadn't been concentrating. _

_As he knelt over in the dirt, the rain running down the back of his shirt, he felt something hard hit his shoulder. _

_He whipped round. There was nothing, only the wind. Something hit him again, on his head, and he looked up. A large clump of frozen rain hit him in the face. _

_It was hailing. Brilliant. Tentatively he went to the back door of the house and knocked. The door was locked and he didn't have a key. _

_His aunt opened it. _

_"What do you want?" she demanded. _

_"It's starting to hail, Aunt Petunia." _

_"So?" _

_"Well.. I was wondering if I could come inside until it stops." _

"Pathetic excuse," said his uncle from behind her. "Back to work, boy, and I want all those weeds up too. Out, now, or you'll get the hiding of your life."

_Sighing, he obeyed. He tried in vain to shelter his head with his arms as he ran back to the flowerbeds. _

_He knelt down, feeling the icy grass crunch beneath him. _

_Mid-June, he thought. It's mid-June. Someone in heaven has a really bad grudge for me. Or maybe it's just a punishment.  _

_He stayed in the garden all day, and the next day he was back out there, shivering with fever. _

_Mrs. Figg told him he ought to be in bed, but he told her it was just a cold, and complimented her on the apples that were hanging over the back wall. She let him have one. _

_He wondered briefly whether he was going to die. He had a fever that wasn't being taken care of, after all. _

_But then he changed his mind. That would be too easy. Way to easy for whoever was writing the story of his life. _

_I have to have a heroic death, he thought. Or people won't believe it. _

_That's when he had the idea._

_**_

"Is that you, Harry?" 

The black cat in the doorway yawned. _Who else?_

"I've been waiting for ages. Everyone else is at breakfast."

You didn't have to wait.

"Hermione asked me to. Someone has to make sure that you eat enough. Especially today." Ron shuddered at the thought of practically triple potions that afternoon. 

The cat hopped onto the bed and turned into a fifteen year old boy, who started pulling on his shoes. 

"I suppose you're going to insist." 

"Indefinitely." 

Harry looked up at his friend. "That sounded _very _weird coming out of your mouth. How much have you been hanging around with Hermione lately?"

"Not enough." There was a brief pause. "I wish we could tell her." 

"Me too." 

"You think we should?" 

"I don't know. I think I want to keep it just us for a bit longer. You know, just until we get used to it." 

"Ok. But let's just stick with her a bit more, all right. I feel awful leaving her out of everything." 

Harry nodded, got up and led the way to the staircase. 

"Harry?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Would you have… I mean, if we hadn't, you know, would you have kept it from me, too?" 

"Probably." 

Ron winced. "How?" 

"I don't know." 

It was a bright, sunny Thursday morning, and the two of them could forget the unpleasant dreams they'd had the previous night.

 Ron still wasn't sure if Harry was dreaming the same as he was, and he didn't want to ask. 

They reached the Great Hall just in time for Harry to eat enough to satisfy Hermione, and then they made their way upstairs to the Charms classroom. 

Professor Flitwick was waiting, and when the bell rang he took the register.

"Now," he said in his squeaky voice when he was finished. "Your O.W.L.s are drawing ever closer…" 

Everyone groaned. Professor's McGonagall and Binns had both given them similar lectures. 

"Which of course means you need to be prepared. You know many simple charms…" several people snorted. 

"And a few harder ones. But a spell does not exist on it's own, you know. Each spell has it's own level of power…"

Harry didn't remember anything of what Professor Flitwick told them. He knew it all anyway. 

When Flitwick got onto the subject of the homework he had set them about the subject that interested them he collected them in and marked them as they copied from the textbook. 

After copying it out at top speed, (he cheated a little with a dictation spell, muttering the words to his quill), he watched Professor Flitwick marking the papers. 

The little man sighed noticeably when he picked up Hermione's folder full of parchment. After a moment he put it aside to mark last. He sifted through the other papers. 

Harry could tell when the Professor had reached his own, because he stopped abruptly and separated the three pages. His eyes widened and he almost fell off his cushions when he saw the total. 

He looked up, and Harry met his eyes squarely. They smiled at each other. Flitwick motioned to the work on Harry's desk with a questioning look. 

Harry nodded and mouthed, "finished." 

Professor Flitwick rolled his eyes in mock exasperation and went back to reading the essays. 

Harry snuck a look at Ron's parchment. He was only on the third line of text. He had a feeling he could be waiting for a while, so he picked his Animal book out of his bag and started reading it under the desk. 

Ron noticed what he was doing and grinned at him. 

When everyone else was finished, Flitwick set them questions, annoyed that they'd finished before he'd finished marking. 

Harry finished them all in ten minutes and carried on reading. In addition to the ones Fletcher had shown him, he now had the knowledge of several more under his belt and couldn't wait to try them out. 

He jumped about a foot off his chair when the bell rang. Ron laughed and packed up. 

The three of them chatted happily as they moved away for break. 

Hermione was happy and chatty again now that they were talking to her as well as each other, though she was still a little sore at them for not telling her previously about Harry's shield. 

The fact that she'd had to be revived from a dead faint made her a little edgy perhaps, but she kept talking about how amazing and how _rare _it was until Harry changed the subject. 

They had been planning to find a sunny spot somewhere in the castle and sit there, but Angelina caught up with them. 

"Harry!" she called. "Harry, I found that girl I told you about. You know, for Keeper. I've organised a practise for next week, and you can approve her."

"You're the captain," Harry objected. "You approve her." 

"I want this to be a team decision," said Angelina firmly. "Oliver's even coming over one day next week, so I can get him to have a look at her, too." 

"Oliver?" Harry exclaimed. "What for?" 

"Oh, something about his new girlfriend. She's coming to see someone who goes to the school, or something. Anyway, just thought I'd let you know." She hurried off down the corridor

"Thanks!" Harry called after her. 

"Come on," said Hermione, tugging at his arm. "We're going to be late for Potions!"

As it turned out, they were late anyway. 

"Potter, Granger, Weasley, ten points from Gryffindor for your tardiness," Snape snapped, as they ran into the classroom seconds after the bell had rung. 

They knew better not to argue, and made their way to the back desk, which had, out of habit, been reserved for them. 

Like Professor Flitwick, Snape did not seem to be up to a practical lesson on the first class of term. He set them work to do, and collected their homework in. 

As he took Harry's paper he bent right over so their heads were level. Harry repressed the urge to shudder as the Potions master hissed into his ear, but he didn't look up. 

"I've heard about your remarkable talents, Potter," he spat. "And I must warn you that any wandless magic in my class and Gryffindor will be so far behind they won't get up to zero until term ends."

And I thought two points on my first day was a big deal, Harry remembered, smiling grimly. 

He decided, however, that wandless magic would indeed be a bad idea, especially as Draco Malfoy was watching him intently from the other side of the dungeon. 

Instead, he did the set work as well as he possibly could. Potions still wasn't his strong point, and he was pretty sure that he'd got quite a few if not all of the questions wrong. 

There was about fifteen minutes left of the lesson when Harry felt a _something_ brush up against his leg, and he froze, his head pounding. 

_~Harry? What is it?~ _Ron asked silently. Then he, too, froze in horror as something scaly touched him. 

From the back of the class upward, people started screaming and jumping onto their stools. Malfoy was the only one, apart from Harry and Ron who stayed in his seat, his expression unreadable behind a curtain of white-blond hair. 

Even Hermione squeaked and looked quickly under the table. Harry saw a flash of black moving up the aisles between desks. 

_~ Someone you know?~ _Ron asked Harry in a would-be-calm voice. 

Harry had a feeling it was. That tail was too small to be Azrith, but…

Snape was doing his best to calm everyone down while trying to find out what was going on. He whipped around just in time to see a long, black, something slither out of sight behind the cupboard. 

"POTTER!!!"

There was utter silence at Snape's outburst. A little surprised himself, Harry stood up.   

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't 'yes sir' me! You deliberately put that… that _thing_ in here before class!"

"How could he have Professor?" said Ron quickly, before Harry could protest. "We've been with him all afternoon." 

"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe _you_?" Snape spat at Ron. 

"I really didn't, sir," said Harry trying very hard not to laugh at the expression on Snape's face. "He's been missing for a couple of days now. I didn't think to look for him…"

"_Missing?_" Snape exclaimed. "And it's been here the whole time?" 

"I doubt that, sir," said Harry. "he doesn't like it down here." 

"Then what - "

"I suppose he was looking for me," said Harry. 

Snape held his breath, clenched his fists and raised them above his head. He seemed to be counting to a hundred very fast. Aunt Petunia had used to do that. 

_Would you rather freeze to death…?_

The whole class now had their eyes fixed on Harry and Snape, Harry determined, Snape furious, standing face to face at the back of the class. 

The Slytherins looked overjoyed, and even Draco Malfoy looked up with the usual vindictive smile at the amount of points Harry was going to lose for setting a dangerous animal loose in the classroom. 

Snape, however, was too exasperated to do anything other than stand there looking at Harry for the next minute or so, until Harry said, tentatively,

"So… should I move him, then? Only I bet they've all scared him with screaming and that."

Snape nodded, his face blank white and his lips a tight line. _He's terrified,_ Harry realised. _He's actually afraid. Maybe I shouldn't have stood him up in front of the whole class_  

~ _What are you talking about?_ ~ Ron demanded. ~_I'm enjoying this, don't spoil it!~_

Harry pulled himself back together. Without taking his eyes off Snape's, he whispered,

"_Sleeve? Is that you? Come out, I'll take you back._"

The class gasped as one as Harry spoke, and then again as the black snake showed himself, slithering around the bottom of the cupboard containing potion ingredients, up Harry's arm and about his neck.

Several of the girls squealed. 

"_Where've you been?_" Harry asked, still staring straight at Snape, who was even paler, if possible, than before. 

"_I was exploring. Trying to find followers for you. There are many in the castle. I have found some. They want to talk to you._"

"Go, Potter," said Snape, his voice tight as though his throat was constricted. 

Harry fled. 

~ _Harry! _~

The urgency of Ron's voice made him stop halfway up the stairs. 

_Ron? What? What is it?_

 ~ _Harry… I heard it!_ ~ 

_What?_

~ _I heard that snake talk to you! It was incredible! But… but that's.. I mean…_"

Dark Magic, I know. It's probably got something to do with the bond… 

~ _Y' think?!_ ~ 

_We'll talk about it later. I've got a meeting lined up. _

Back in the classroom, Ron had gone white, and his hands were shaking.

"Ron?" said Hermione worriedly. "Ron, what is it?"

he looked up at her, his eyes wild. 

"Don't tell me you're afraid of snakes too," said Hermione, trying to sound scornful but anxiety was still evident in her voice. 

Ron took a while to register what she'd said. "No," he said finally. "No, no, I'm fine."

They both went back to their notes. Ron opened the connection to Harry immediately, and started chattering frantically to his friend. Harry's calm words made him relax slightly. 

Hermione forced her own fear down. She knew Harry, he wasn't evil. What he had just done had made her skin crawl, but she was sure there was an explanation. She'd get it later. 

As for Ron – he needed looking after. Well, Hermione could do that. 

Definitely. 

…

Harry had been expecting several things. He hadn't been expecting what he found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the first floor. 

"_Why here_?" he asked. 

"_It is a secret place_," said Sleeve, still curled comfortably around Harry's neck. He seemed very glad they were finally back together. 

"_You and your friends are the only ones who come here._"

Harry didn't ask how Sleeve knew that. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear a story about his friend waiting behind a toilet all that time, to see if anyone came in. 

Although he himself had a good relationship with snakes, the very thought made him shudder.

"_For a very young snake, you have a remarkably cocky streak,_" he said instead, as he put his hand on the doorknob.

"_I think the slimy man rubbed off on me,_" said Sleeve. 

Harry would have laughed, but what he saw once the door was opened struck him completely dumb with shock. 

…

…

…

…

Hmm, should I????

…

…

…

…

Nah.

…

…

…

…

Snakes.

Black snakes of all shapes and sizes lay draped over the sinks and floor. 

Myrtle was sitting cross legged in mid air, chatting to them. 

What surprised Harry was that, although she spoke in English, the snakes were answering her, and she likewise. 

"Myrtle!"

The ghost girl looked up. "Oh, it's you," she said happily. 

"I was wondering when you would turn up. These friends of yours are really good company, did you know?"

"You can talk to them?!"

"Of course I can," scoffed Myrtle, in a voice that suggested she was extremely enjoying doing this to Harry. "Ghosts can talk to all creatures, didn't you know?"

Harry shook this off. There were more important things. 

"Myrtle, no one _does _ever come in here anymore, do they? I mean, the first years…"

"Oh them," said Myrtle, pouting slightly. "No. They came in the first few days after term started, but no one comes at all now. It's so… so lonely… sometimes…" 

She started to cry. 

"Myrtle…shhhh! I mean, don't, please…. Look, when I go, I'll leave some of the snakes with you, ok? I mean, since you like them so much, and you're the only one in the castle besides me who can understand them…"

_Me and Ron_, Harry thought. 

Myrtle cheered up slightly at this, and she sniffed. "Would you really? They're very friendly. I used to be afraid of them, before… when I was alive, that is, but they're not scary at all. They're absolutely charming, aren't they?"

"Yes." Harry decided that it would not be a good time to tell Myrtle that she had in fact been killed by a snake, since no one appeared to have told her yet. 

If he upset her, she was going to have a teacher down here, and besides, what else could he do with all those snakes? 

When he went back to Gryffindor tower, Sleeve and possibly a few others could come with him, but the rest would have to stay here. 

Harry looked around at the snakes, who were watching him with intensity. The biggest by far was Azrith, who slithered forward to where all the others could see him. 

"_This is Harry, the new master," he said. "Named by us 'The Little Black One'. He offers us a new home and a new, better life than that the one who made us offered. He offers us a most marvellous thing. Choice."_

There were hisses from the crowd as the usually solitary snakes conversed.

"_He offers us a choice between wrong and right. Between slavery and loyalty. We must turn against the cruel one who destroys us as readily as he creates us. Let us join The Little Black One_."

It was the closest a snake had ever come to public speaking. There was a hiss of triumph from the seething black mass on the bathroom floor. 

_"Good," _said Harry. "_Is that settled then? Only it's lunchtime, and I want a few of you in Gryffindor tower with me just in case…"_

Sleeve rustled against his clothing, irritated. 

_"I know _you're _coming,"_ said Harry. 

"I should hope so!" 

Azrith looked up at Harry. Harry was just wondering how to turn Azrith down when he asked to come, when the huge snake did it himself. 

"One thinks that I would be too big, Master. This one is more suited to what you require."

A tiny snake, just long enough to wrap around Harry's thin wrist twice, and only as wide as a pencil, came forward.

"Do you have a name?" 

_"No," _said the snake. "_None of us have names except Sleeve. That is a good name. I would like a name like that, please."_

"_Well," _said Harry, kindly, as the snake wound itself around Harry's wrist as though it had been his birthright to be there. So comfortable. 

"_Sleeve isn't the only one with a name. That big one over there is called Azrith._"

"_I am?"_ said Azrith. He mulled this over a little. _"How perfect. Yes, it suits me very well. But what about that one?"_ He indicated the little snake. 

Harry sighed. Thinking up names was getting tiresome. But this one, he felt he already knew. 

"Your name is Zedik."

The little snake hissed contentedly. "Yes. I like –"

"Master!!"

There was a voice from the doorway. A snake had met another snake who had come in through the door. They had exchanged news while Harry had been talking. Now, he spoke. 

"Master! There is news! There is something… it is in the grounds. It is recognised… Master must hurry!"

…

**Ahh… a lovely cliffy. It is half term soon so I hope to update then. That gives you a max. of two weeks. Ah, well. (he, he).

Oh yeah, and stop flipping complaining! I am trying to update regularly but (as I keep constantly reminding people) I'm 14, It's end of year exam time, I have tons of work to do, and I'm behind as it is. Phew, that's out of my system. 

It's great to finally do a thanks list. Thanks extra for all your great reviews up to chapter twenty. 

Here be thanks:

John: I love those scenes too. Unfortunately I'm running out of stuff to surprise 

people with . Ah, well. I'll come up with something.

Kateydidnt: I'm glad you like Mundungus. Me too.

Hrei-siesn: I'm planning on the bond being a big surprise for Harry's father 

figures. I'll have fun writing that. 

Storyweaver: Thanks for that list you gave me three times, you've made your 

point clear! I'm still not sure about romance in this story, though it is certainly leaning in a R/Hm direction.

Fain Oakenbringer: Thanks!

Mell: I'm not sure whether a brain can itch. Maybe that's what headaches are. 

Glad you like the bond.

Charma1219: Thanks!

Me: Thanks!

Lady Russell Holmes: I don't get your question. I know why I'd name a spider 

'Web', cause they spin them, but Harry's 'Web' form is a frog, because they have webbed feet. Don't confuse me more than I already am! (lol) thanks anyway. I know this cliffie is nothing compared to your last, but there you are.  

Inyisa: Neither am I, don't worry.

Skahducky: Thanks!

SlytherinAtHeart: Thank you!

Amerz: Thanks!

Princess55: Thanks!

Heyhun: 3 ½ hours ain't bad, not for my fic!!

Katani Peditedra: Thanks!

Riser155: I'm saving that for later – when? That's for me to know and you to 

find out!

Phoenix Flight: Glad you're so enthusiastic! Thanks again for Pitch, dunno 

what I would have done without it.

Bumblebee Bucy: Thanks!

Liberty Belleview: Maybe you really shouldn't eat so much chocolate… but I say you can 'cos it leads to humorous reviews! Thanks!

Anonomus: Thanks!

Ccs rox: Ah, the puppy eyes! Nooooooooooo!

Seth: Thanks!

Shinystars007: Thanks!

CSC: yeah, but Wendy does unusual stuff. Get used to it.

Hogwarts freak: Thanks! 

Jordan: Well, I've told you now! As for Ron… maybe, but I doubt it. It's not 

really his job in this story.

Rathien: Thanks!

Possible Cho Chang: Thanks!

Athelas: Remus wanting to attack Harry has nothing to do with the fact that he 

is a werewolf. It has to do with a certain _other_ black rodent… ringing any bells? I'm glad you like the story. 

Chanzo654: You are the only one who has picked up on the key. It is 

significant, but you're right, you don't get to know yet. I feel bad about Hermione too, I should be letting her in on some stuff soon.

Sean: Thanks!

August Wynd: If I hadn't decided I wasn't gonna change the title I would've used that one! So cool! But I think I like it as it is now. I'll have to reserve it for a chapter title. 

Ella: Thanks!

Elysia: There was a bit more Snape in that chapter. I find it hard to write him 

but he is an important part to the story. I'll put in more of him soon.

Cool person 33459: I have NOT forgotten about Harry's diary!!! And as for 

Wendy, she's special. So there! Lol. (no flames meant in this reply) **smirk**

Pyro: Thanks!

Ssjgoddesschico: Thanks!

TinkerbellOfHell: Nice name! Thanks!

Litine: thanks!

Anya Wood: Hello! Aw, had scabby French Detention today. Blah. You doing 

Cairo? We're only on the Nile, and it's _boring_! I like Mrs. Bentham. He, he, she's comin' after you!! I hope you enjoy E.R whenever it is on… anyhoo must give time to people who actually read my fic, now. (lol) (kill froggy!)

Lanfear (and Adrianna): Thanks!

Elrenia: No worries. I thought I made something clear, but I guess I didn't. I'll 

write an extra bit in an upcoming chapter to explain about Wendy's husband. Thanks!

xMex: Thanks!

Andrea: thanks!

Darienetta Stoke: Yes, go Rose!

EriEka: When Harry said everything, he meant everything. 

Phew, that took a while! Please review, you know I'm addicted!!!

Love 

~*Laterose*~ 

**


	21. The Rat in the Rain

**hello again! Yes, even though I am meant to be revising I have updated!! 

TWO VERY IMPORTANT NOTES

1) I am moving to Australia soon. This could slow down the fic, so sorry, but I'll do my best!!

2) I have written a David Eddings fic which desperately needs reviews. It's called 'Polserra'. Er, basic plot, twenty or so years AFTER the Mallorean Garion gets decidedly sick. Polgara, Durnik, Polgara's parents and her twins come to Riva, not expecting the severity of his illness. No one, even Polgara has the slightest clue what's going on, and Geran's only theory is squashed by his mother's insistance that eight-year-old Polserra had absolutely NOTHING to do with it… Kheldar's son provides humour as well as tension, and we are introduced to the rest of Ce'Nedra's charming daughters. 

Praise for 'Polserra': BEAUTIFULLY DONE! Very David Edding-ish. (Beledra the Sorceress) 

Lots of interesting stuff going on in this story... What happened to Silk? Where is he?? Is he hurt? He can't be hurt! Why didn't he get the note to them??!?! I'm just a bit hyper, don't mind me all that much, lol... Ah well, I hope you post again soon, and so I can find out what's up w/ Silk, and what happened to Dhelbir that was so awful that everyone except us poor readers seem to know about! Lol.. Oh well.. Keep up the good work!  (Sailor Sol)

Anyway I am done whittling. On with chapter 21!!!!**

Hermione and Ron sat through lunch in almost silence, listening to everyone around them discuss their best friend. 

The news of what had happened in Potions class that day had spread around the school like wildfire, and now everyone wanted to know the details. 

"It was spooky, you know? He sounded like he wanted to kill us all…"

"Professor Snape didn't even take points, I think he was even afraid of it…"

"Never came back…"

"Where is he?" Hermione hissed at Ron, looking at her watch for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"How am I supposed to know?" Ron asked, but at the same time, he asked, ~_Harry? Where are you? Hermione's getting worried. _~

There was no answer. When he checked, Ron discovered that the barrier between their connected minds was firmly closed. When he tried to open it, it stayed that way. 

_~Damn you, Harry. Why won't you talk to me?~_

"Where is he?" Hermione asked again, looking absentmindedly upwards at the stormy ceiling. What had started as such a glorious day was now downcast and gloomy. It reflected her mood.

This time Ron answered sincerely. "I don't know, Hermione. I really don't know."

…

Harry had closed the barrier between him and Ron as soon as he took off after the snakes. 

He closed them _all_, except the one to Voldemort, which was always open and allowed him to speak Parseltongue. He couldn't risk anyone else getting hurt in whatever was going to ensue. 

It was only five minutes before Sleeve, Zedik, and Pitch were waiting in a dark corner of the entrance hall. 

Inside Pitch's snake body, Harry's heart was beating furiously. His friends had informed him that the assailant outside, of whom they did not know the name, was going to enter the Entrance Hall on the stroke of four. 

How they knew this, Harry didn't care to ask. 

He guessed that he'd missed… maybe two thirds of Transfiguration. That meant the Death Eater, for he was sure it was one, could arrive any second. 

He'd watched Ron and Hermione leave the Great Hall after lunch, Ron looking around hopefully for a sign of him. 

He'd also felt his friend's hammering against the barrier in their minds while they'd been travelling down to the Hall. Honestly, did Ron really think he was going to fall for that? 

It had been hard to stop him breaking it, however. It was only Harry's experience and practise with the five links in his brain that stopped him. Really, Harry thought, Ron ought to respect his privacy. 

But perhaps he was right to be trying to help him now. Only, Harry didn't need help. If it were Voldemort himself, he would still have to do it – on his own. That was how it worked. 

Besides, Harry was a silver wizard… but then who was to say that Voldemort wasn't?

Confused by all this, Harry tried to ignore the pounding doubts in his mind. Instead, he set himself to watching, waiting…

_"Here," _hissed Sleeve. 

The door inched open, and the sound of the pouring rain outside intensified. Harry held back for a second. This was wrong. You didn't just _open _the door to Hogwarts! There were powerful charms… spells…  

But his doubt was answered for him when he saw a silver hand slither around the door to touch the wall. 

Pitch shivered. Harry had seen what that hand could do. And if it could erase even Dumbledore's wards…

Dark Magic spread through all the walls of the Entrance Hall and beyond, visible to all three snakes. 

When the man outside was positive that there was no one in the immediate vicinity, he stepped inside, and closed the door. 

_"There," _said Zedik. "_Do you know of him, Black One?"_

"_More than of him, I think,"_ said Harry. 

"_Will you stop him?"_

"_I certainly will. Once I find out what he's up to. What the hell is he doing in Hogwarts? Besides me there's Wendy, Remus and Professor Dumbledore, not to mention all the other teachers. What's Voldemort thinking? He doesn't stand a chance!"_

The man was now standing almost in the centre of the hall. Raising his silver hand, he whispered something and a small blue ball of fire rose out of it. This was nothing new to Harry either, as he'd seen it used by the same man several times. 

It was a communication spell, which Wendy had also insisted he learn, in case of emergencies. The spell could not be used through a proper channel, so only people who had skill with wandless spells could use it.  

**"What is it?"** asked the ball irritably in a voice Harry recognised, but could not place. 

"Hush. Not so loud, Lucius," said the man. 

Ah. That's who it was. 

**"Pettigrew? Where the hell are you?" **

"Hogwarts."

**"_What? _What on earth are you doing in that building _in your human form?_"**

The man in the Hall scoffed, an act quite contrary to his former personality. 

"Really, Lucius, how did you expect me to open the door with paws? Besides, there's no one around, I've checked."

**"So what do you want?"**

"I just thought you'd like to inform the master that I'm in and the mission looks to be successful. He could use some good news right now. Plus, you'll look good."

**"Oh? And what's in it for you?"**

Harry was wondering this too. Even in his new, manic form, it was unlike Pettigrew to try and obtain credit for _anyone _other than himself.

"To be honest, Lucius? I want to get out of here as fast as I can. The place gives me the creeps."

_Of course it does, you slimy git,_ Harry thought.  

"Yes, well. Fortunately you are the only one among us who is an animagus." Malfoy's tone was lucid and smug.

"Yes, a rodent animagus. Snakes eat rats, Lucius."

"Oh, I see. You wanted to make sure you told me how much you would miss me when you die. How sentimental."__

"Lucius, I'm _serious_. There are about two hundred of those slithery spies in here – most of them to watch Snape. And now I'm going to watch them. How sure does the master want to be about this? He's got a spy watching the spies watching the original spy."

"I care less for your opinions about this than I do about your sentimental values, Pettigrew. Just don't get caught!"__

"You'll tell Him then?"

"I can try. Personally I'd rather stew myself in my own juices than do you a personal favour, but then, as you said, I will look good. You'd better transform soon or you'll have the Muggle-Lover onto you. Don't mess it up."__

The blue ball of fire disappeared.  

"Fool," Pettigrew muttered as he lowered his hand. 

Harry decided that now was the time to act. 

He transformed out of Wormtail's sight, and then moved into the lighted area of the hall. The short man jumped and took a step back, before regaining his self-composure and sneering at Harry. 

"Ah, Harry. I was wondering whether I'd see you soon. This is a little sooner than I'd hoped…"

"Congratulations, Peter," Harry cut in. "You don't look nearly as pathetic as you used to."

"I'll take that as a compliment, Harry," said the Death Eater with a smile. 

"The first and last," Harry retorted, raising his wand. 

Pettigrew chuckled evilly. "Harry, do you really think you can kill me, now?"

"I'm not going to," Harry told him. "Much as I'd like to. I need you to help get Sirius free."

He knew what Pettigrew was doing. Peter didn't know that Harry knew about the silver hand, and how much it could really do. While Harry kept him talking, he was building up his internal shield as forcefully as he could without using up all his magic. 

"I have to tell you, Harry, that the chances of Black being set free are pretty thin on the ground."

"Black?" Harry spat, his wand still trained on Pettigrew chest. "Can't you even say his name? You may have new power and new friends and a whole new personality, but you're still as pathetic as before even if you don't look it."

"Now, now, Harry," said Pettigrew, sounding so much like his master now that Harry had to suppress a shudder. "There really is no need to be so insulting." He sighed. "I suppose I can't do it now. The master really wants you for himself, you see. But seeing as you're here all alone, I may as well stun you and bring you back. It's not the job I was brought here to do, and it's rather unpleasant… but…" 

"What makes you think I'm going to let you do anything?" said Harry, his teeth gritted from the effort of keeping so much magic in check. He stopped piling power into his shield. Any more and it would explode uncontrollably.

"Harry, I don't think that 'letting' is an option…"

…

Justin Finch-Fletchley was not having a particularly good day. His Dreamless Sleep Potion had succeeded in sending Ernie McMillan into noisy hyperactiveness, and loosing twenty whole points for Hufflepuff. 

In Transfiguration he'd managed to turn Hannah Abbot into a skunk. This had given the rest of the class a good laugh, but Justin had lost more points, and neither Ernie nor Hannah was talking to him. 

This had become a problem during History of Magic, when Ernie had suggested something about Justin when Professor Binns asked him what happened to Goblins if they were shot more than twice in the brain. 

Justin had said something decidedly rude in reply, and he'd been sent out of the classroom. 

I must be the only person in the world, he reflected, leaning against the corridor wall. Ever to be sent out of History of Magic. Ever. 

Professor Binns had said he would be out to talk to Justin in two minutes. After fifteen minutes, it became pretty much certain that the old ghost had forgotten about him, and had continued teaching the class. 

Justin could just imagine Ernie and Hannah sniggering about this to each other at the back of the classroom. It made his blood boil. Well, he'd show them. When they came out at the end of the class they'd not find him until they met him in the Hufflepuff Common Room, eating cake. 

At the thought of cake, Justin's stomach rumbled. He hadn't had all that much lunch, anyway. 

He set off in the direction of the kitchens. He prided himself on the fact that he knew where they were and how to get in. He'd seen the Weasley twins at it a few times. They thought they were good, but they weren't _that _good. 

As he made his way down to the ground floor, he heard voices. He slowed down. His experience in second year had made him extra cautious about running into things without investigating them thoroughly first. 

Even though he could not catch the words, he was sure by now that the voices were coming from the Entrance Hall, and one of them was definitely Harry Potter. 

Just like a Gryffindor, he thought, grinning in spite of himself. What was he doing outside of lessons? Who was the other voice? 

He edged closer, and as he did the words became clearer. He stopped just at the bottom of the staircase to listen, making sure to hide his body from view. 

 "I suppose I can't do it now. The master really wants you for himself, you see. But seeing as you're here all alone, I may as well stun you and bring you back. It's not the job I was brought here to do, and it's rather unpleasant… but…" 

"What makes you think I'm going to let you do anything?"

"Harry, I don't think that 'letting' is an option…"

Justin got the feeling that Harry and this man were definitely not lifetime chums. And who was 'The Master'? Surely not…

"Wormtail, I have to warn you that you don't know what you're letting yourself in for."

"Oh, I do, Harry. I know I do. Stupify!"

At the sound of the spell, Justin jumped out from behind the pillar at the bottom of the staircase, just in time to be blinded by a flash of silver light. 

When it died away, he could see Harry holding out both hands, facing a short man in black robes. Neither had noticed him. Around Harry's hands was a silvery nimbus that crackled and sparkled in the direction of his opponent. 

"Very impressive, Harry," said the man Harry had called Wormtail, without a hint of emotion. "A silver wizard. Very, very rare, as I'm sure you know… however…"

He held up one hand, which Justin realised suddenly was pure silver. A light began to pulse from it, enveloping the man totally. It too, was silver, but there were distinctive sky-blue patches covering it. 

Harry laughed. "Nice try Wormtail. But I'm still stronger than you!" 

Justin stumbled, just a little. Was this just a test of power between the two? Was Harry really just as he had first thought him, a spoilt, power-hungry potential Death Eater?

At the sound, the light surrounding Wormtail disappeared, and both he and Harry whipped around. 

The look on Harry's face was one of horror, but Wormtail looked… pleased. His face was flabby and his hair thin and matted, but he still managed to look decidedly evil. 

"Really, Harry," he said. "You really must stop bringing other people into our little reunions. They only get hurt."

"Don't you dare touch him!" Harry yelled at Wormtail. "Justin, run! Run!"

But Justin couldn't have moved if he had wanted to. He was frozen to the spot. 

"It seems he'd rather stay here and help you, Harry," said Wormtail. He raised the silver hand. 

"Crucio!" 

A red beam of light emitted from Wormtail's hand. Justin immediately felt white-hot knives pierce his skin, and he screamed. Louder than he'd ever screamed before. The pain was unbearable. Just as he found himself wishing to die, he heard –

"No!" and the pain was gone. Something large fell on top of his aching body. It was Harry, and he was screaming. Wormtail laughed and lifted his hand. 

Harry rolled off Justin and whipped around. The man was gone. In his place, something small and brown shot out of the door. 

Harry hesitated, as if undecided, and then looked at Justin. "Stay inside," he growled, and ran after it, into the storm. He seemed to disappear as he moved, too. 

Justin lay still on the floor, the pain ebbing slowly away. "Harry," he moaned. 

…

The black cat ran. And ran. There was nothing, not even a scent. The rain beat down on his sable fur. 

The shock of seeing Justin in the entrance Hall had slowed his reflexive system. His barriers had even gone down for a few seconds, though he wasn't sure if Ron had heard him. 

He'd jumped in front of the Cruciatus curse on a mere impulse, knowing the pain it would inflict and not caring, as long as the boy at the foot of the stairs would stop screaming.  

And now Pettigrew was gone. He'd never find him now. The rain was washing away any traces there might have been of him. 

He stopped at the tip of the forbidden Forest, his paws soaked and sinking into the mud. As little chance as he'd had of finding the rat in the grounds, the odds of finding him in the Forest were a little over infinity to one. But he knew what he had to do. 

_Ron?_

_~Harry! Are you ok? What -? ~_

_Get Justin. He's in the Entrance Hall. _

Then he cut the connection as if with a knife. 

He transformed, and made his way back to the castle slowly as Harry, his failure making him forget how worried everyone would be by now. It was his one chance, his one chance to catch the man who had betrayed his parents, and he had failed. What would Sirius say? 

Thoroughly miserable, he stopped walking at the edge of the lake and watched the rain sweep across the surface of the water, letting it run into his eyes. It hid the tears. 

…

_Would you rather freeze to death…?_

…

Ron wasn't concentrating, and for once, neither was Hermione. Professor McGonagall hadn't said a word about Harry's absence. 

Near the end of lunch, Snape had entered the Great Hall and whispered something to Dumbledore. His eyes had flickered towards the Gryffindor table, and then he'd leant forward to talk to McGonagall. 

Ron guessed that Snape had told him what happened, though why he'd want to was beyond him. As it was, people giggled nervously as Snape left the Hall, his black cloak billowing behind him. 

Ron had started to watch the clock on the wall, which was now quite free of flying birds. The curtains were also back to their normal black, but everything else had been kept the same. 

Including the clock. It had used to tell the correct, Muggle time, but it seemed that Harry had had a go at Wizard timekeeping, as well as everything else. The hands pointed to things like – 'sorry, a long way to go yet', 'you're about half way through, hold on tight!', 'nearly time for lunch', and where it was currently pointing to – 'start packing, the bell will go any second now.'

~_Harry, where are you? ~_

"Weasley!"

Ron jumped. "Yes, Professor?" 

"I trust you'd like to share with the class what you find so interesting about the timepiece on the wall?"

"What? Oh, er... no, Professor. I mean - nothing."

Parvati Patil sniggered. 

Suddenly, Ron felt the barrier drop. 

_Justin!_

~_What? Harry? Where –? ~_

But it was too late. The barrier was closed. The next minute, a sound that Ron knew wasn't just in his head started reverberating around the room. It was a scream. A boy's scream. 

Perhaps it was what he had just heard, but Ron thought he recognised the voice. 

"Justin?" the class turned to look at him, then around at the walls as if they could provide the answer to the sound. Professor McGonagall stood up, her face pale. 

Suddenly the scream was replaced by another. 

Hermione and Ron both looked at each other. 

"Harry?" said Hermione. 

They both stood up. "That's Harry, Professor!" said Ron. 

McGongall didn't say a word. She merely grabbed her wand and ran from the classroom. Ron and Hermione exchanged one last glance, then sped after her. The rest of the class followed suit. 

As they ran, they saw other doors opening, other teachers running, followed by their classes. 

At the head was Professor Little, followed by Professor Sinistra and Professor Flitwick, who seemed to be floating along, his legs not being long enough to convey him fast enough. 

The screams grew louder until they stopped with a terrifying halt. The silence seemed to be worse. There was utter chaos and confusion as the students and teachers tried to figure out which way they had been coming from. 

A loud bang silenced them all. Everyone looked around to see Professor Dumbledore striding down the corridor, followed closely by Professor Snape. 

"Back to your classrooms, all of you," the headmaster commanded. Reluctantly, most of the students returned. The teachers, Ron, Hermione, and several others from Gryffindor House. Also, surprisingly, Hannah Abbot and Ernie McMillan. 

"Now," said Dumbledore, "What has happened?"

"Well," began Professor McGonagall, a little sheepishly. It was very strange to see such a usually uptight woman being sheepish. "I suppose you must have been too far up to hear it, Headmaster, but there was screaming…"

"It was Harry, Professor!" said Professor Little and Hermione at the same time.

"It was Justin!" said Ernie and Hannah. 

"It started as Justin," said a voice that stopped the arguing immediately. "Then it switched to Harry." Everyone looked around at Ron, who looked imploringly up to the headmaster. "I think – I think Harry might have done something stupid."

"It wouldn't surprise me," said Snape with a sneer. 

Ron glared at him. "This is all your fault, anyway!" he snarled. "If you'd sent someone –"

_Ron?_

Ron stopped talking immediately.

_~Harry! Are you ok? What -? ~_

_Get Justin. He's in the Entrance Hall._

Then the link was severed so savagely that Ron stumbled. Hermione caught him. "Ron? What is it?" 

"This way," said Ron, and ran in the direction of the Entrance hall. 

…

He could hear footsteps. He tried to sit up, but failed. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a hacking cough. 

"Down here!" called a voice. 

"Justin!" called another, very familiar one. The next thing he knew he was in Hannah's arms. "Oh Justin! I'm so, so, sorry!" 

"S'all right," he croaked. 

"Mr. Finch-Fletchley?" Justin looked past Hannah to see a white beard and a pair of gold, half moon spectacles. 

"Professor?" 

"Justin, what happened?" 

"I can't… I can't… Harry!"

"What?" said a voice from somewhere in the midst of the blur behind Dumbledore. 

"Harry! He went after him, he… he saved my life…" 

"Justin, listen to me. This is very important," said the Headmaster. "Where is Harry?" 

"Outside," Justin said. "He went after that Wormtail bloke…"

"Peter!" squeaked the same voice. Yep. It was definitely Granger. 

…

Ron stared down at Finch-Fletchley in shock. Wormtail? In the castle? 

"Peter!" exclaimed Hermione. 

"I say, what's going on?" said someone from behind him. It was Mundungus Fletcher. 

"Mundungus!" said Dumbledore in relief. "I'm afraid it's Harry. He's somewhere in the grounds, chasing after an old friend. I don't suppose you'd try to find him?" 

"Right," said Fletcher, suddenly becoming a different person. He pulled his want out of his pocket and set off into the storm. 

"He's not a friend!" Justin said, trying to get up but Hannah was holding him too tightly. "He tried to kill me!"

"I know," said Dumbledore, extremely gravely. 

Someone else was coming down the stairs. As people saw who it was, they edged back from the staircase in shock. 

"What's going on?" said Remus, ignoring the student body. "Are you all right, Justin?" 

"Yes, Professor," said Justin. "What are you doing here?" 

"Never mind," said Remus, looking at Dumbledore. "Headmaster?" 

"Now you've blown it," said Wendy. 

"I don't care. _What happened?_"

"I got attacked again," said Justin, pushing Hannah gently away and getting to his feet. 

"By whom?" asked Remus calmly. 

"I dunno. Harry called him Wormtail…"

"WHAT?" Remus suddenly became more furious than anyone had ever seen him. Someone screamed. 

The werewolf turned to face them. "Oh, stop being so childish, all of you. What have I taught you lot, anyway?" 

He turned back to Dumbledore. "Where's Harry?" 

"He went after him," Justin interrupted. "Into the grounds." 

"I'm going after him," said Remus. 

"Me too," said Wendy Little.

"I cannot stop you," said Dumbledore, moving out of the way. 

Ron held Hermione back from running after them. 

"Ron! Harry could be hurt!" 

"And if he is? There's nothing we can do."

"Justin?" It was Ernie McMillan. "I'm sorry, too." 

Justin shrugged. Despite his shock, he was obviously quite enjoying the attention. Hermione scowled at him. 

"Now, Mr. Finch-Fletchley," said Dumbledore. "Why don't you tell us exactly what happened?" 

**That chapter simply flew by, it was so exciting! Phew, but now I am exhausted. All Justin-haters, sorry. It was a last minute decision to put him in, and also tied up a lot of loose ends that I had been worried about. 

Here be thanks:

Athelas

Ranger

Litine

Kateydidnt

Storyweaver: Brr… Mary Sue! I hate them!!

EriEka127

SlytherinAtHeart

Lady-of-the-Dragons

Phoenixrising

Grrrinning Golden Retriever: I'm really pleased you like Xera – some people 

think I cheated, there. I'm a HUGE Eddings fan, are you? If so, PLEASE read my story 'Polserra'. No one is reading it!!

Elysia

Evil Willow

Chanzo654

Rathien

Winged Wolf: Wow! Thanks for all those names! Some of them look great…

Jordan

Crazyfriendsfan

Ascafeniel: Points to your house! Well guessed, my friend. Though it was 

_kinda _obvious… so you like Peter, huh? Straaaange…

Charma1219

John: I'm sorry you still don't like the bond, but I hope you still stick with it cos 

you've been there since practically the very beginning. I hope I manage to convince you by the end!!

Pegoheart144

Hrei-siesn: spies upon spies! I might need names as I go along, but now that 

I'm not doing them one by one, not so many. Fun fun fun. 

Riser155

Katani Petitedra

Liberty Belleview

Haley

Naomi SilverWolf

Daisi

Skahducky: Good idea. I'll have to brood on that one.

Princess55

Gamen Girl: I quite like them actually. I may even use a few.

Marie

Centra-gal86

Nerwen

Richan

Ccs rox

Athenakitty: whoa, whoa there! Enough questions and guesses already! 

Some of them were good, then I got to 'Harry's father is coming back!' and I started to giggle. He he he. I'm saving 'ebony' for a different form. And of course Sirius is coming back! What would we do without him?

Anya Wood: Right. Sure you read my story, just not close enough to catch the 

small reference to Oliver's girlfriend. I bet you skip right to the bottom to see what I've said to you, don't you mate? Anyway, now that I am going to Aussie Land you will have to read my story or you'll never read about... yourself! Well I guess you could just ask Sarah, but knowing her she won't know either. I can see it happening! You're all going to forget my lovely little fic!!

Shinystars007: Oh no don't remind me of my inane plot twist involving 

Hedwig's brood. I promise I'll get around to it… eventually…

Tiger Lily

Angelwings76

ShadowHunter: that particular phrase has been baffling my readers since the 

dawn of time. Well, since I started the fic.  

Butler

Von

Danny's girl

Hogwartsfreak

Possible Cho Chang: yeah, sure. Sounds fun. 

RC

In Silent Lucidity

Darienetta Stoke

Ella

August wynd: apostrophes and quotes screwed up? How? Give me an example, or I can't change anything. Thanks anyway. 

Princessflowerchild

Mell

Ambookworm247

Finally! Gawd that took long enough!!!! Please review, I need the help…

Love 

~*Laterose*~

**


	22. The Red Tailed Golden Eagle

**There is a long long long A/N at the end of this chapter, so see you there, except to tell the people who are interested that I am moving to Melbourne, Australia. Anyone live there? **

Harry stood by the lake. 

Memories surfaced in his mind that he had wanted never to recall again after Ron had become his blood brother. 

He let the rain fall. He knew countless charms to keep the weather off him, and being a silver wizard, he could have stopped it altogether if he had wanted to, but it was now too late, and would do no good. 

Failure. 

He could have set Sirius free. He _could _have. If it hadn't been for Justin - 

Harry shook himself mentally. He could not blame this on other people. It was his fault only, and he knew it. He should have been faster. 

"_Harry?_"

Harry didn't say a word, but Sleeve understood. Sleeve understood him better than anyone else. Except maybe Ron, now. 

The snake wrapped himself around one of Harry's legs and waited there with him. 

"_They will come looking for you_."

Harry knew. He wished they wouldn't. They would be furious with him, he was sure. Look at all the time Sirius, Remus, and Wendy had put into his training, and what had he given them back? 

Nothing. That's what he'd given them. They would all be ashamed of him. 

The students would know too. What would they say when they found out that he'd failed? Would it go back to being like it was when everyone had thought he was the heir of Slytherin?

Someone had said that he wasn't ever going back to the Dursleys. They'd go back on that, wouldn't they? He'd have to go and live there again, probably under the watchful eye of some Muggle social worker. 

Harry felt Ron trying to get through, and gave what little he had in him into strengthening the barrier. He just wanted to be alone.

And so they stood, the faithful pair, waiting for some ray of hope to shine through the stormy curtain before them. 

…

When Justin had finished his story, the entrance hall exploded into complete chaos. 

Several people wanted to know what the hell Harry had been doing in the Entrance hall in the first place. 

Hannah Abbot and Ernie McMillan demanded to know why they hadn't been told that Professor Lupin was back at Hogwarts, even if not in a teaching position for obvious reasons. 

Ron was trying to keep Hermione from bursting into hysterical tears from worry, while frantically hammering on the barrier that was separating his mind from Harry. 

When the shield got stronger, he gave up and concentrated on his other friend, who was holding on to his arm so tightly that fingernail marks were starting to show.

"Enough!" said Professor Dumbledore, sharply, which was enough to shut everyone up for a certain amount of time, though no one could say how long, so he continued quickly.

"Teachers, back to your classes please. I imagine that there is a certain amount of mess to be attended to. Tell the students what has happened, excluding Remus in your accounts, if you please. Professor Snape, please watch Professor Little's class until she returns."

Snape nodded. Several of the staff looked reluctant to go, especially Professor Sinistra. They had all grown fond of Harry during the holidays, seeing his politeness and kindness towards others out of class. They also felt rather protective of him since that dreadful newspaper article. 

Dumbledore turned to the Hufflepuffs. "Miss Abbot, Mr. McMillan, escort Mr. Finch-Fletchley to the hospital wing, then back to your classes."

He held up a hand to avoid arguments. "I assure you that Remus Lupin is here under my protection, and I would like it to remain that way, please. Kindly do not tell anyone about his presence at the school."

Hannah, Ernie and Justin all nodded. They had liked Professor Lupin as much as the Gryffindors had. 

"That goes for you, too," said Dumbledore, turning to the various Gryffindors waiting hopefully on the stairs. "Ron, Hermione, stay here, please."

When he, Ron and Hermione were alone in the room, Dumbledore heaved a huge sigh and rubbed his forefinger and thumb against the bridge of his nose beneath his spectacles. 

"Professor Dumbledore –" Ron started to say, then hesitated. Harry would not want him to say anything. But Dumbledore _had _to know, if only for Harry's own safety. 

He shuddered when he thought of what his best friend would do to him if he found out, but steadied his resolve all the same. 

"Professor, Harry's going to blame himself for this," he said, as the old man looked up at him. 

He rushed on. "I know it sounds stupid, but, well, Harry isn't all too rational right now. He'll twist it somehow so it looks like it was all his fault. If he doesn't catch Pettigrew he'll hate himself for letting Sirius down."

"I fear you are right," said Dumbledore. 

"But how can he?" Hermione asked. "He saved Justin's life, took a Crucio for him, then ran off after Pettigrew. Justin couldn't even get up again after seconds of the curse – and Harry had it on him for _much_ longer."

Ron could tell Hermione was still a bit angry with Justin.

"Mr. Potter is a very individual young man," said Dumbledore gravely. "I know that he hates for people to think of him as special in any way… but he cannot escape the fact that he is – individual."

Ron thought that was a rather subtle way of putting it. That was Dumbledore for you, though. 

…

Even though the day was not yet over, it was almost pitch black due to the clouds overhead. 

There was a light coming from Hagrid's cabin, through the rain. 

"Remus!" Wendy yelled. "Over there!" 

"Right!" Remus yelled back over the foot of empty air that separated them.   

Wendy knocked hard on the door, and Hagrid opened it. Remus could see the interested faces of seventh year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs under Hagrid's arm, which was at about the level of his head. 

None of them looked particularly surprised to see him. This made sense, seeing as most of them were prefects, and all the prefects (except the Slytherins) had been informed of Remus' stay in the castle before term started.

"Ali? Remus? What you doing 'ere? Come in, come in." 

Wendy was so worried that she didn't bother to berate Hagrid on the use of the shortened version of her real name as they inched into the tiny hut, already crammed full of students. 

"Have you seen Harry, Hagrid?" she asked. 

Hagrid became alert at once. 

"Harry? No, why? What's 'appened?" 

"There was a Death Eater in the castle," Remus explained. "Harry's gone after him."

"In the castle?" a Ravenclaw girl exclaimed. "How is that possible?" 

"He's a very gifted Death Eater," Remus said quickly. "Harry's got to be in the grounds somewhere." 

"Fang!" Hagrid called. "C'mon, outside." 

The boarhound, who was getting quite old by now, grumbled at being pushed out into the rain, but got to his feet. 

"You lot stay 'ere," said Hagrid to the students. "No sneakin' up to the castle, mind." 

"Yes, Hagrid," said Richard Hastings, a Ravenclaw, who happened to be Head Boy. 

"Righ' then," said Hagrid to Remus and Wendy. "Let's go."

…

Like Remus and Wendy, Mundungus Fletcher had made the mistake of bypassing the lake entirely on his way to the Forbidden Forest. It seemed like the logical place for a Death Eater to hide, especially if he was right in assuming that the Death Eater had been Peter Pettigrew. 

"Come on, Rat Boy," the aged Auror murmured to himself as he used his wand to light up the area of trees he stood in. 

He, unlike his fellow searchers, and Harry himself, had erected a weather shield to make sight easier in the ceaseless onslaught of rain and sleet. It glowed a soft, purple-blue around him, the rain bouncing off in torrents, making him look like a walking waterfall. 

It soon became clear to him that, if Harry or the supposed Death Eater were to be found, it would not be in the forest. Either Harry came out of there, or they'd never see him again. 

Mundungus cursed and swore loudly as he pushed his way back through the overhanging growth in his path. From his own misadventures at Hogwarts when he was a lad, he knew that the trees were doing it on purpose. 

"Let me through, can't you?" Mundungus demanded between swear words. "This is an _emergency_." 

The trees, to put it mildly, didn't listen. 

"I _hate_ this forest," Mundungus declared to himself as he finally wrenched the last branch out of the way. He stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, in plain sight, despite the rain, of a light coming from Hagrid's hut. 

"Mundy!!" called three voices he recognised through the storm. The voices were weak against the thunder, but he heard them. 

He could see them too, two shorter figures on either side of a huge one, who could only be one man. He noticed with relief that Hagrid had his dog, Fang. 

"It's no good!" he called to them, hurrying forward. "We'll never find them in this!!"

"We can't just leave!" Wendy yelled. 

"He's right, Wendy!" Remus shouted at her over the next clap of thunder. "Fang can't follow any scent at all this mud, let alone a specific one!"

"Sorry?" 

"We have to go back t' the castle!" Hagrid bellowed, loud enough for all of them to hear a little too clearly. Wendy rubbed her ears. "Harry can take care of himself!" 

"What if he's hurt, Hagrid?" Wendy screamed at him, half through worry and half through wanting to be heard. 

"We can' do anything for 'im now, " Hagrid insisted. 

…

After half an hour, Dumbledore sent Ron and Hermione back to Gryffindor Tower, as Transfiguration was almost over. 

Hermione didn't say a word to Ron, but ran up the staircase to the girl's dormitories. Ron watched her go, then made his own way up the boy's staircase. 

Half way up he stopped suddenly, his heart thudding inside his chest. 

"Her –" he started to call, then cut himself off. 

No. 

They'd never reach them in time. Not as they were. The fact that something might have happened to Harry set his mind on fire. The barrier was doing away with his senses, he was sure, but this _must _work. 

He sprinted up the remaining stairs. 

Harry's trunk was unlocked. Ron threw it open and started emptying it roughly, throwing clothes and parchment all over the floor. He had no time to be tidy. 

He threw it out of the trunk without realising until a second later. He grabbed the old bit of parchment, tapped it with his wand, and whispered. 

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good." 

The map took on lines and dots, outlining the walls and current residents of Hogwarts castle and grounds. 

Ron scanned the grounds. There he was, Harry Potter, by the lake. Mundungus Fletcher, Alula Little and Remus Lupin were miles off, at the foot of the Forbidden Forest. 

At least Harry wasn't dead, but he could still be hurt. Ron knew that by himself, he'd never be able to get Harry up to the castle, especially if Harry didn't want to. 

He was fairly sure that Harry wouldn't listen to Dumbledore either. No, the only people who could possibly help Ron right now where Remus, and possibly Wendy. 

But how was he to reach them, without being stopped by Dumbledore? 

He knew how, but it was a risk. He knew how to do it, but it was still a risk. 

It was a risk he had to take. 

Taking a deep breath, he let his mind empty. Since he had watched Harry do it many times, from inside his mind, it wasn't too hard. 

He knew that, not only what he was doing, but the way he was doing it was completely absurd, and the craziest way anyone had ever done it – including Harry. 

He didn't care. 

His heart beating at almost the rate of a mouse, he whispered "Transforma Animagi," and prayed for something with feathers. 

…

Harry Potter stood, and watched the rainfall. 

…

It took a while (and a lot of hoarse shouting) to persuade Wendy that there was nothing they could do for Harry when they couldn't see where they were going or what they were doing, or hear each other, let alone find a small teenage boy. 

Luckily, although it did impeded their vision even more due to the waterfall effect, Mundungus' shield succeeded in shielding himself, Remus, Wendy, Hagrid, and the whole of Hagrid's seventh year Care of Magical Creatures class from the rain.

Remus walked slowly in time with everyone else, to make it easier for Mundungus to keep the shield over the whole lot of them. 

He looked up occasionally to see the purple clouds and flashes of lightning. Something wasn't right. 

Of course, it wasn't unusual in Britain for the heavens to open their widest at the most unexpected and unhelpful of times, but there was something about the storm that chilled Remus' bones. It seemed somehow unnatural. 

Given his unusual situation, Remus had been outside in many a storm, and he knew them. He'd even studied them for a while, in those quiet years when Sirius had been in Azkaban. 

He could have sworn that the lightning had just flashed… golden. Lightning wasn't gold. It was blue and silver, usually, which, not coincidentally, reflected the two most powerful colours of magic a wizard could have. 

Something was definitely very odd about this storm.

He had no time to ponder, however, because as he surveyed the thunderclouds, he saw a shape moving against them. Surely no bird would be mad enough to fly in this weather?

No _normal _bird, anyway…

"Mundungus!" Remus called across the heads of the students. "There's something up there!" 

The look that his friend shot him said that Mundungus was thinking the same thing he was. Could it be Harry?

"Light!" Mundy called out. "Light, everyone! As bright as you can make it!" 

"Lumos!" called several voices. 

Wendy stuck her hands in the weather shield and… _pushed_. Sky-blue light pulsated from her fingers into the network of Mundungus' spell. 

The half-globe around them glowed bright as day. It didn't help them to see anything around them, but it certainly helped the shape circling above them to see it. 

It dove. 

It burst through the weather shield. This more than anything proved that it was no ordinary bird. Only a wizard would know that a weather shield kept out nothing but the elements. 

As soon as he saw it, however, Remus' heart dropped considerably. It was a Golden Red-Tailed Eagle, complete with the colours. It wasn't Harry. 

He held out his hands to catch it as it collapsed. Hagrid ran forward. "What is it, Remus?" 

Remus didn't answer. He handed the bird to Hagrid, but stared in disbelief in what the Eagle had brought him. 

It was the Marauder's Map. 

…

"_They are coming,_" whispered Sleeve. 

"_I know. I feel Ron with them. Why, I can't imagine."_

_"Will you go with them?"_

Harry didn't answer. 

_"You must. They are your friends. They need you."_

_"I know they need me. They won't tell me why, though. Where does this power come from, Sleeve? It is really all from Voldemort, or something else?"_

_"There is not much of the Dark Lord in you. Snake-speech, yes. Perhaps some others."_

_"There's something they're not telling me."_

There was a pause, as they continued to watch the rain on the lake's surface. 

"_They can never tell you, if you do not go back there. I am young, but this I sense from you. You will not abandon them. You are not the Dark Lord."_

Harry didn't answer. His legs ached from standing still for so long. He knelt beside the water, not noticing how dirty his robes became. One hand gently touched the surface. 

Ripples spread across the lake. 

Suddenly, Harry felt as tired as he had ever been. His other hand hit the sandy bottom, and his head bent forward. 

Black hair touched the water. 

…

"By the Lake?" Mundungus said incredulously. His eyes narrowed. "How sure are you?" 

"Positive," said Remus, checking the map once more. "I trust this thing with my life… and Harry's." 

"We're going to talk about this later," Wendy warned him, just loud enough to be heard. 

The bird in Hagrid's arms shook itself off, and flapped its wings experimentally. It flew onto Remus' shoulder. 

Remus decided to forestall theories about the strange bird until they had found Harry. 

They set off towards the lake. 

…

"There! There!" 

Wendy pushed herself out of the weather shield and ran towards the shape at the lake's edge, as did Remus. 

Mundungus followed, after quickly asking Hagrid to take the students back to the castle. Hagrid relented, though reluctantly, to the old Auror. 

Mundungus erected another weather shield as soon as he reached the spot where Remus and Wendy were busy pulling Harry out of the lake. On second thought, he added a muffling charm, to stifle the sound of the storm, and wondered vaguely why he hadn't thought of doing that before. 

I must be getting old, he thought grimly, and turned his attention to Harry. 

He was soaked to the bone, and deathly white. 

"He can't have been under for long," Wendy said, trying to convince herself. "He's still breathing. We have to get him back to the castle."

"It'll take too long," Remus cursed. "We need to get that water out of his system."

"Come on, Harry," Wendy said helplessly, shaking him. "Please wake up…"

The Golden Eagle that stood on its talons next to Remus flew up onto Harry's chest. 

"Hey!" said Wendy. "Get off, you stupid bird –"

"Wait, Ali," said Remus. He had his suspicions about this bird. 

…

Harry was floating. He didn't know how, or where, and he didn't really care. 

_Am I dead? _he wondered. 

~_You better not be. ~_

_Ron?_ Harry tried to check his barriers, but they were no longer there. 

~ _You stupid prat. What were you doing in the lake? ~_

_I… I dunno…_

_~ Listen. I'm not sure if this will work, but I'm going to try to lend you some strength. ~_

_Leave me alone._

_~Er, I don't _think_ so… listen Harry, everyone is in hysterics about you. Hermione's probably still crying. So stop being so bloody selfish and let me help you. ~_

It felt like a slap in the face, but one that Harry needed. His mind-self smiled at Ron's. 

_Not too much. I won't have you fainting on me._

He vaguely heard Ron's grumble - ~_That's rich, coming from you…~_

In a few seconds, he felt raw energy roaring through his veins. He was jerked out of his floating, far-away state in an instant. 

His eyes opened, and he found himself looking straight into a pair of amber eyes. 

"I _said_ not too much," he told it. 

"Harry!" 

"Wendy?"

"Harry, are you Ok?"

"I'm fine, Remus, honest." Harry struggled to get to his feet, but Wendy held him down firmly. 

"You certainly didn't look fine when we pulled you out of the lake."

Harry went red. "I'm sorry…"

Remus shook his head. "How much water did you inhale?" 

Harry was about to answer that he didn't know what Remus was talking about, when he began to retch. He rolled over, and gave the lake most of it's water back, with a little too much help from Wendy. 

"Thanks," he said, when he'd finished coughing up what felt like his whole stomach. 

"You're welcome," said Wendy, worriedly. "Are you _sure _you can walk up to the castle? I can make a stretcher…"

"No," Harry said quickly. "I'm fine, really."

The eagle flew onto Harry's shoulder. 

"A friend of yours, Harry?" Fletcher asked. 

"I suppose so," said Harry dubiously, sending, _When did you find out you could do this? _  

~_You don't sound too surprised. ~_

_I'm not, really. It makes sense, I guess. Is it your only form?_

The Golden Eagle laughed in Harry's mind. ~_I'm not _that _good._ _I mean, how many animuchi do you get in a millennium? ~_

_How many animuchi do you get that have a blood brother? _

_~ Good point – but yes, it's my only form. I don't care though. It suits me. ~_

_I think that's the whole idea._

"Harry?" 

"All right, I'm coming."

…

Harry point blank refused to go to the hospital wing. He was only tired, and not much of that now that Ron had boosted his energy level as high as the empire state building. 

The Eagle, however, was swaying on his shoulder. 

"You taking him up with you?" asked Remus as they walked up to Gryffindor Tower. 

"I might as well. If he sticks around, I'll take him to see Hagrid in the morning."

~_You'd better not. ~_

_You'd better not stick around, then._

"That bird saved your life, you know," Wendy told him gravely. 

Harry managed a weak smile. "I know. I'm sorry – I'll try to be more careful."

Remus ruffled his hair as they reached the portrait. "Just… just tell me, next time there's a – a Death Eater in the castle, right?"

"Yeah," said Harry. He went in, and was greeted by utter silence from the common room. 

…

"What did you mean, tell me?" Wendy asked as she and Remus went back down the stairs. 

Remus shrugged, not wanting to go into details about the mind-to-hand bond he, Harry and Sirius shared. 

"He still thinks it was his fault, doesn't he?" said Wendy, apparently not noticing that he hadn't answered. 

"And no amount of telling him otherwise is going to persuade him," Remus assured her. 

"Who do you think it was?" Wendy asked. "Did Hermione say his name was Peter?" 

"Mm," said Remus. 

"But Justin said… what was it? Wormtail?" 

"Yes…"

"I know that from somewhere… wait a minute…"

****

_~Flashback~_

The staff and Harry sat at the breakfast table. "Verita," Harry said, pointing one finger at his forehead. They could hear what was in his mind.

Footsteps growing louder, the soft creak of a door –

_"Ah… Wormtail. So good to see you. Everything is according to plan?"_

_"Y…yes… My Lord."_

_"Liar. My senses tell me that something is worrying you. Let me in on your little secret, Wormtail."_

Harrry started to sweat. Wendy, Flitwick and Dumbledore seemed to be the only ones with the faintest inkling of what he was doing. Still, they listened with rapt attention. The others all looked shocked at that hissing voice, that cringing whine…

Snape had sweat running down his face too, almost as if he knew what was coming next, eyes as cold and unrevealing as usual…

_"It is S…S…Snape, m…my lord…"_

_"Ah yes. Severus. What about him, Wormtail?"_

Wendy looked sharply up at Snape. So did several of the other teachers. Snape himself had shaking hands.

_"He…he is saying…"_

_"Get on with it, you fool!"_

_"Master, he is saying that it is too soon, that we should be trying for smaller targets first, Wizards…"_

_"The fool! Is he frightened?"_

_"I don't think so master."_

Wendy made a derisive noise at that. Snape looked up at her with a glare.

_"You don't think. I do the thinking here."_

_"Yes master."_

_"Well, what to do about faithful Severus… What do you think, Wormtail?"_

Silence at the staff table.

_"Master… you said I wasn't to think…_

_"Did I say that?"_

_"Yes, master…"_

_"Crucio."_

Harry slumped in his chair as the air rang with Wormtail's howls. When they stopped some people had their hands over their ears. It didn't help in the slightest to block out Voldemort's next words.

_"I know what to do about my little lie spreader. Send some useless incompetent out to kill him."_

Someone screamed. Snape jumped, Dumbledore frowned.

_"Of course, they'll probably die in the attempt…"_

_"You mean not to kill him master?"_

Baited breath…__

_"Not in the least, Wormtail. But it will make him wary enough to stop spreading poisoned ideas among my Death Eaters."_

_"What if the assassin succeeds, master?"_

_"Then that's too bad. I can't have doubtful feeling among my servants. See to it."_

"Yes, master."

Five, four, three, two, one…

The echoes ceased. Everyone felt a brief surge of Harry's relief before he pulled his memory back into himself, thanked it and told it never to obey him again.

Snape stood up without a word. He left his breakfast unfinished and swept out of the Great Hall.

"He didn't even say thank you," said Harry, back to his normal self but breathing heavily.

"_He's _trying to kill him?" said Professor McGonagall. 

Before Harry could answer, however, he was enveloped in Wendy's small arms. 

"Harry! Don't you ever, ever scare me like that again! Please tell me you'd practiced that spell before!"

Harry tried not to look too guilty.

"Er.. if I say no, will you overreact?"

"I should be able to control myself."

"I practised it over and over until I had it right."

"I don't believe you."

"Your problem, not mine." Harry's breath returned to normal and he picked up his fork as if nothing had happened. 

"And that happens every night?" said Professor Sprout. Her voice shook.

Harry looked up at her. It seemed to them all that there was a deadened look in his eyes. 

"That was a good one."

"A good one?" exclaimed Wendy.

"No one died." 

"Who's Wormtail?"

"His henchman. He does all the dirty work."

"It sounds familiar."

"Can't do," said Harry. "This one's pretty new."

"Can you name all of You Know Who's supporters?" she asked. It seemed to be some kind of joke. 

Harry looked straight into her eyes. "Do you want them alphabetical?"

She looked shocked. "Then why on earth don't you? Turn them in?"

Harry glared at her. 

 "You don't know anything, do you?" he hissed. It wasn't Parseltongue, but it had the same effect. Wendy stared at him in shock. 

He left his plate, pushed his chair back loudly and made his way in silence to the Gryffindor common room, knowing she'd follow him.

Wendy stared after him. "Was it something I said?"

Dumbledore sighed.

~_End Flashback~_

"What do you mean, you _heard_ the dream?"

"It was the Verity spell. We heard his memories, but we didn't see them. I think Harry was maybe trying to keep something from us."

'You got that right', thought Remus, but he didn't say anything. 

"It was only – I mean, not only did the name _sound _familiar, but I thought I recognised the voice as well… just as if… oh, never mind."

Remus said good-bye to her at the wolfish gargoyle, went inside and leant against the wall for a minute, breathing heavily, holding the map in his pocket.  

_Sirius, you better get here soon, _he thought frantically. _I don't know how long I can keep this up!_

_…_

It took Harry a while to convince people that he was absolutely fine, including Hermione, who berated him for a full five minutes about how he had scared her. 

Luckily, no one had noticed that Ron had left, assuming that he'd gone to bed early, though as Hermione put it, 'how he could sleep is beyond me'. 

Telling them that he ought to show Ron that he was alive, causing a few first years to laugh nervously, Harry ascended the staircase and entered the boy's dormitories, where Ron transformed the second the door was closed. 

"I'm _soaked_," he complained. "And I smell like a bag full of wet feathers. I need a bath."

"Race you," said Harry. 

Harry lost. He started putting his things back in his trunk as he listened to the water running.  

_Ron,_ he called through the bathroom door. _How the hell did you manage to do the transformation first time?_

_~Oh, I dunno, ~ _came the annoyingly happy answer. ~_Maybe I'm just cleverer than you. ~_

**You wanted longer chapters, you got longer chapters! Though some of it was courtesy of cut and paste **grin**. It beats me how any of you can remember anything that happens in this fic. 

For those of you frantically looking through online thesauruses to find the Red-Tailed Golden Eagle, there is no such bird. I made it up. Sounds lovely though, doesn't it? 

As you all know, I enjoy thanks lists almost as much as I love reviews, but, get serious, you DO want to read this chapter, don't you?? It takes me the same length of time to write thanks as to write a chapter! 

I have to go back to school tomorrow, (worst luck) but I do have two 21 hour flights ahead of me the week after next to Australia on a school-finding trip, so I think you can count on some proficient writing!! 

Some of you are a little upset because in previous chapters, Wendy uses spells that can't be used (like apparating in school) or using them in the wrong way (like expelliarmus instead of accio). 

There is a reason for this. True, I only thought it up because people noticed it when I hadn't, but it has now become a rather important part of the future plot. 

Hopefully, there shouldn't be too much plot left. I plan to introduce Sirius in a week or so (I know I _said_ it would be earlier, don't grumble) sort the Dursleys out, and the diary, and Hedwig's eggs, and all the various other lovely little plot twists I have introduced so that I can't keep up with them. I AM aware of the more obvious ones – however, if there is something you have noticed which you would like explained, or explained in more detail, do let me know, and you know how!! 

I want to finish this story in all haste, so it _probably _won't last all of Harry's fifth year. Guess why? I want to write a sixth year fic, a _real _one, after I have read the fifth book. Yippee! Anyway, I am getting ahead of myself. This fic is enough for me at the moment, not to mention some of the others. **grin**. 

See you (probably when I get back from Australia on a school-finding trip) he, he.

Laterose. 


	23. Mostly Involving Quidditch and a Surpris...

** I wasn't sure if there was any point posting this today, as the fifth book comes out tomorrow and more than likely no one will get round to reading it until next week. Then I figured I'd rather finish and post this chapter instead of having half of it on my conscience. 

As promised, I did a lot of writing while I was away. I have a house and a school in Victoria, and I'm moving there halfway through July. In the meantime, I'm going to do my utmost best to post as much and as often as I can. Thanks for the feedback, and more is of course welcomed. **

Harry usually woke early, but this time someone was taking it to extremes. His head was being buffeted by something soft and strong. 

"Wha? Whass goin' on? Hedwig?"

The white owl fluttered up to his head and started to viciously tear at his hair. 

"All right, all right, I'm up!"

"Harry? It's three o'clock in the morning," Dean's sleepy voice said from the other bed.

"Sorry," Harry whispered. At least Ron wasn't disturbed, as shown rather providently by his audible snores. 

He dressed quickly, hustled along by his owl, who seemed to be in some distress, left Ron a note, and made his way as quietly as he could down to the Gryffindor Common room. 

"What's wrong, girl?" he asked when they were out of earshot of anyone sane enough to be trying to sleep. 

Hedwig flew over to land on the windowsill, firmly suggesting that he follow her. 

Privately thinking that it was too early to try and bring forth the effort to transform, Harry obeyed his owl. In a way, he didn't own Hedwig, it was the other way around. 

"Where are we going?" he asked. Hedwig hooted impatiently. "All right, all right," Harry mumbled, spreading his arms in preparation for the acquisition of wings. This had better not be like last time, he thought, just a little bitterly. 

Two days had passed since he had accosted Peter Pettigrew in the Entrance Hall, and it was now the early hours of Sunday morning. Harry was decidedly not in the best of moods. 

Potions yesterday had been a complete disaster. Snape hated him even more than he had before; it seemed, for humiliating him in front of the class. 

Care of Magical Creatures too, was still not one of Harry's favourite lessons. 

Xera had returned to her mountain home, but the class were still working on the particular ways of the Dryad. Hagrid hinted that there would be a new live specimen to work with soon.

Hagrid had been extremely worried when he'd seen Harry on Friday morning. Wendy had assured him that everything was fine, but he gave Harry a trademark bone-crushing hug all the same. 

Wendy had been very careful around Harry since Thursday. She seemed to guess that something was going on that she didn't know about, and, although she was right, Harry was a little hurt that she didn't fully trust him anymore.

Remus had demanded to know what Peter had said before Justin had turned up. Harry told him about the communication spell with Malfoy that had taken place, and also about what Peter had told him. 

He thought it best not to let Remus know all that he himself had said to Peter. Harry was sure it wouldn't exactly offend Remus, but he couldn't be sure of his reaction. 

The rest of the school were treating him in two different ways, adoration or fear. This was nothing new – Slytherins always hated him and the other houses regarded him as a hero. 

Justin, of course, had apologised profoundly and thanked Harry at length for saving his neck. This seemed to have taken some of the sting off Hermione's irritation with him. Harry, on the other hand, could have done without it.

Ron had not once mentioned what had happened when he'd lent Harry strength when he was half drowned, except to suggest that they remember it for future emergencies. 

Being unconscious at the time, Harry couldn't remember what he'd said to his best friend, but was sure it had been something fairly offensive – or selfish. Either way, the two had made an unspoken agreement to put the matter behind them – as best they could. 

Harry had not been questioned about the Death Eater he had seen – probably on Dumbledore's insistence. 

He had thought that Snape would demand a description, until he remembered that Snape already knew of Wormtail from Death Eater meetings. 

It was hard to keep things straight after having watched so many of those meetings, every masked face exactly the same…

Lord Voldemort had not been pleased at Wormtail's failure. Harry and Ron both had been jerked out of sleep by a particularly unpleasant dream on Thursday night. 

Ron was noticeably shaken, and neither of them got much more sleep after that. They spoke by mind, trying to evade any subject involving Voldemort or Peter Pettigrew. 

Snape, however, was a rather popular subject. 

Sleeve and Zedik were now Harry's constant companions, if only out of sight. Zedik hid on his wrist, Sleeve, his school bag. 

The other snakes stayed in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom except to survey the school, searching for other snakes or students who were marked. 

They had already identified two Slytherin seventh years, whom Harry was watching closely as often as he could, with the help of his 'eyes', namely the small horde of death fangs he had hiding in the girl's loo. 

His own two shadows, Sleeve and Zedik, whom Ron had been informed about after Harry's reasoning that he couldn't really keep anything from his Blood Brother anymore, were currently sleeping in the nest Harry had made for them under his bed. 

He wished he were still up there now. 

And to top it all off, he had spoken to Sirius to check that he was coming straight to Hogwarts after he left Scotland that evening, and his Godfather had proved decidedly vague and evasive. It wasn't until afterwards that Harry realised Sirius hadn't even given him a straight answer. 

Harry thought that what he really wanted to do was avoid the issue of trying to explain to his twin sister that he wasn't guilty. He couldn't quite blame him for that, though he felt that Sirius had something on his mind.

It only took a few moments to transform into faithful Quill, and then he was in the air. Suddenly all his weariness was forgotten in the joy and the glory of flight.  

Hedwig circled round him in a way that clearly said – _This is not the time to mess around._ Then she flew up to the high, open windows of the owlery. 

Harry started to guess what this was about. He'd almost forgotten! How could he have?

Hedwig hooted loudly as they entered the tall room. Several other owls were huddled around Hedwig's nest, trying to see what was going on. 

They scattered at her insistence. Flash was there, but he stayed out of Hedwig's way. 

It was at this point that Harry realised just how different owls with wizard partners were than those without them. 

Normal male owls, he was sure, were not normally there at the scene of the birth, and other owls surely would not react like this to the hatching of a fellow owl's eggs. 

All right there, Flash? 

Remus' owl hooted in surprise. Harry saw a questioning image, a fifteen-year-old boy with black hair and emerald eyes. 

Yes, It's me. 

Hedwig squawked, a most unattractive noise. 

All right, all right. 

Hedwig had moved her eggs from the top perch to one that could be reached from the floor. Since Harry couldn't see properly with all the other owls crowding around, he floated gently to the floor, made a decidedly ungraceful landing, and changed back into himself. 

This almost instantaneous movement scared nearly all of the owls back to their perches, and Harry got a clear view by leaning in, gently stroking his owl as he did so. 

"Are you sure about this, Hedwig?" he asked, when they'd waited for five minutes and the three perfect brown eggs had made no sign of movement.

Before she could give him any sort of recognition that she'd heard him, a small crack appeared in the egg closest to Flash, who jumped – an odd-looking feat for an owl. 

The crack widened, and a miniscule beak popped out. In the next second, the other two eggs cracked almost simultaneously. 

Harry watched in awed silence as the three baby owls made their way out of their hard shell casing, helped along a little by their mother, who pecked at the gaps they made as they clawed their way free.

"Wow," said Harry when they were all out, and Hedwig was brushing them off almost frantically. Two of them were coffee coloured, a blend of white and brown inherited from both parents. 

The third was a brilliant snowy white, and Harry knew even without thinking that this was the one he was going to keep. 

He had a feeling that Hedwig didn't really need his help, so he left her to do the remaining work on her new brood. Flash hooted appreciatively as he transformed back into the pitch-black owl, and glided out of the window into the night. 

Harry knew that he would never be able to sleep now, so he made his way softly down to the Quidditch changing rooms. Now he came to think of it, today was also the day they were 'approving' the new member of the Gryffindor team.

Well, it wouldn't hurt to get some practise in beforehand, he reasoned, as he shrugged off his jumper and got his Firebolt.   

It being Sunday, he wasn't wearing school robes, and he couldn't see the point in transforming his perfectly good clothes into Quidditch robes at the moment, so he made his way onto the pitch in jeans and T-shirt, with practise ball-box in hand. 

He decided against letting either the Bludgers or the Snitch out. He'd never be able to see either in this light, and he'd either lose a valuable piece of equipment or get his face smashed in. He wasn't in the mood for either.

He grabbed a Quaffle and soared up to the goalposts. 

Flying with wings was glorious, but there was something decidedly different about the sheer exhilaration of flying with a broomstick. 

For a few minutes, he simply left the Quaffle levitated in mid-air while he zoomed up and around the goalposts. 

When he got back to the Quaffle, he decided that throwing it around wouldn't be enough to vent his frustration. He went back to the changing rooms to borrow George's Beater's bat for the purpose.

First he tried knocking the ball upwards as hard as he could, waiting until it came down and then hitting it up again. 

When he got bored with that he hit the Quaffle sideways and amused himself by speeding after him, and whacking it into a different place. 

Each time he imagined the large red ball to have the face of someone he hated – Wormtail, Voldemort, Snape. He was so caught up in his game that he started yelling things like "take that, you dirty traitor!" whenever he scored a hit. 

Harry was small and skinny and not usually strong, but today, for some reason, that didn't seem to matter. His anger knew no bounds. 

~_ Haaaaarreeee ~_

_What?_ Harry asked irritably, catching the ball at the last second instead of hitting it. 

~_They're watching you from the wiiiiiiindoooooow…~_

_Who are? _Harry asked. _And you can just say it, you don't have to sing it to me. _

_~Someone's touchy this morning. ~_

_So would you be if you'd been woken up at three o'clock in the morning by a mad mother owl. So who's watching me?_

_~Only about the whole of Gryffindor. Dean spotted you out the window and nothing would do for him but to yell the tower down to come and see. Interesting workout, by the way. ~_

_Thanks, _said Harry sarcastically. He had half a mind to march straight back to the changing rooms, but then realised how vain that would look – and he had something much more fun in mind.

All right, he thought. They want a show; I'll give them a show.

~ _Sorry? ~_ said Ron. ~ _I didn't quite catch that. _~

_Never mind,_ said Harry, and went into a dive. 

On the second day of his summer holiday at Hogwarts, he'd spent hours trying to get the Wronski Feint just the way he wanted it. 

Then, he hadn't been able to get less than three feet above ground before having to jerk out of the streamlined, completely vertical position. 

This time, he was going to win. 

He knew it, even before he'd reached ten feet, with the Quaffle under his arm. 

Five feet.

Three, two, one – 

…

Ron watched in terror as his best friend plummeted towards the earth. 

The Gryffindor, who had previously been laughing and joking at Harry's antics from their window seat in the common room stared with their mouths wide open. 

Some first year girls screamed. Hermione was clutching at Ron's arm again, and she buried her face in his shirt, as Harry became a blur. 

"Oh my God!" said Angelina. 

--------

"He's done it!" yelled Fred. 

"He's out of it!" yelled George. "That was even better than Krum!"

"Oliver's going to wet himself!" shrieked Katie. 

"I'll kill him," Hermione hissed to Harry through clenched teeth, still clinging to him like a sloth. "I'll just – kill him."

Ron relayed this news to Harry. 

_Oh well_, his friend replied. _I guess it was exciting while it lasted._

…

When Harry re-entered the changing rooms, his nerves were so full of triumphant adrenaline that he could barely breathe. 

They couldn't say he was showing off, because they hadn't known that he'd known they were watching. The sheer irony of it made him want to giggle uncontrollably, but he restrained himself. 

The exhilaration when he'd pulled out of the dive was overwhelming, and he pulled off his sweat-soaked T-shirt in a misty haze of a daydream. 

"Oh! I'm sorry – I didn't realise anyone else was in here."

Harry whirled round, half-naked, to face the tiny, black-haired girl in the doorway. It was Sarah Pordell.  In one hand she carried an old school broom – a Comet 260, as far as he could make out. 

For a moment they simply stood there, looking at each other. Then Sarah's eyes lowered, and widened at the scars and old bruises she saw on Harry's dangerously skinny chest. 

Catching his breath, blushing furiously, Harry turned to pick up the T-shirt he'd so carelessly tossed on the floor. 

She gasped then, a watery, frightened gasp, and Harry groaned inwardly. In turning his chest away from her he'd exposed her to the only thing that was even worse. 

His back, besides being more scarred and more bruised, also bore the remains of belt marks. 

He grabbed the shirt and held it to him as he turned back to face her, unable to stop his eyes flashing angrily. 

"Who did that to you?" she stammered, then gasped and put her hand to her mouth. 

"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have -"

"What are you doing down here?" said Harry snapping more out of shock than irritation. 

"I –" she seemed to be choking on her words. "I was – I was just going to play Quidditch, I guess –"

"Oh," said Harry, calming a little at the confirmation that she hadn't been deliberately invading his privacy. He quickly shrugged his T-shirt back on, however. 

"I'm really sorry…"

"That's ok," Harry told her. "Listen – you want me to help you with your work out?"

Her eyes widened. "You're joking!"

"No, serious. It's the least I can do for yelling at you."

She blushed. "I'm the one who came in when you were changing."

"You weren't to know. Come on, let's go play!"

She smiled. 

…

It didn't take Harry five minutes to realise that Sarah wasn't half bad. They tossed the Quaffle back and forth between them as they flew neck and neck from one goalpost to the other, and then the tiny girl pulled off a spectacular goal – every time. 

It's a shame first years aren't allowed on the Quidditch teams, Harry thought. She'd be a valuable asset. 

As he was thinking, the ball shot past his ear and he sped after it. He pulled off another vertical dive in the process, and when he came back up to his partner, grinning happily, she stared at him in shock. 

"I thought you'd fallen," she said, breathing heavily. "Don't ever do that to me again."

"Why not?" he said, still grinning like a maniac, pulling himself upside down and hanging on to his broom with his legs. 

"You're impossible," she said, and gestured for him to pass the ball again.   

When they had finished, they were both hot, sweaty and out of breath. They showered separately and met up again in the main room. 

"We'll have to hurry if we want any breakfast," Harry remarked as they started up the stars, looking at his watch. 

Sarah squealed and stared running. "I'm starving!" she called back over her shoulder. 

Harry smiled and ran to catch up with her. 

The Great Hall was more or less empty when they entered. Hermione, Ron and Juliet, however, launched themselves on them. 

"Where have you been?" Juliet demanded of her friend. 

"What does it look like?" said Sarah loftily, shaking out her soaking wet tresses that looked odd out of her usual plaits. "I'm famished." She wandered over to the Gryffindor table to attack the remains of breakfast.

Juliet stared after her in shock, then looked accusingly at Harry. "What did you do to her?" she asked accusingly, bringing herself up to her full height, which was not much smaller than Harry. 

"We were only playing Quidditch," said Harry with a smile and a shrug. "Don't blame me if she gained some confidence as well as tips on Chaser moves."  

Juliet stomped off to join her friend. 

"Nice one," said Ron reflectively. "Now she'll be impossible."

"Which one?" asked Harry. 

"Both, probably," said Ron. 

"Don't be ridiculous," said Hermione. "I'm pleased for Sarah. Now Harry, about that stunt you pulled earlier…"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Harry. 

"That dangerous… that… that…"

"Wronski Feint?" Ron suggested. 

"Shut up Ron. Yes, I suppose if that's what you want to call it…"

"Why Hermione," said Harry. "I didn't know you were watching that. If I had known, I never would have done it."

"So you only try to kill yourself when no one's watching?" said Hermione, oblivious to the subtle hint that she'd been spying. 

"Well I certainly wouldn't want to if someone was there who could stop me," said Harry, and then, at the look on Hermione's face, "I'm kidding, Hermione, I'm kidding. I wasn't trying to kill myself – its just Quidditch."

And she had to be satisfied with that.

…

About an hour after breakfast Harry was almost regretting the morning's double exercise when he realised that he had to be back on the pitch in half an hour. 

As Ron pulled out his chess set and Hermione resigned herself to a Sunday morning without O.W.L.s revision, Harry grabbed his broom and made his way out of the common room with Fred and George. 

The twins kept banging him on the back and congratulating him on his Wronski Feint. Harry was contemplating flying out of a window when they saw Angelina and two others up ahead. 

One of the others was very familiar. 

"Oliver!" said Fred. The three turned around. 

Oliver Wood had not changed. He greeted them all with a sportsman's one-armed hug around the head, and then introduced the third member of their party.

"This is Anneka," he said. "My girlfriend. She's here to see her cousin."

"Hi," said the girl. She was a few inches shorter than Oliver, with a pretty friendly face, short brown hair, grey-blue eyes and straight features, as if drawn with a ruler.

"Hi," said Harry, then turned to Angelina. "Where's this new Keeper, then?"

"On the pitch with the others," she said. "Anneka, are you going to see your cousin now or do you want to watch the practise?" 

"Oh," I'll watch," said Anneka. "It ought to be interesting. We didn't have a pitch at my old school."

"_What?_" said Oliver, sounding scandalized. "You never told me that!" 

"We used the one at the village, you psycho," she told him, but she was smiling. 

"I heard about your performance this morning, Harry," Oliver said. "Wish I could have seen it."

"I'm sure Harry will be glad to repeat it for you," said George, grinning outrageously. Harry punched him. 

They met Katie and Alicia on the Pitch outside, after changing into their Quidditch robes at Angelina's insistence. With them was a girl; shorter than the average first year, with huge green eyes and wavy brown hair to her shoulders. 

She held her broom with confidence, and shook Oliver's hand as if meeting a celebrity.  

"Kate, this is Oliver Wood," said Angelina. "You've met Katie and Alicia, and I'm sure you know Fred and George Weasley, our Beaters, and of course, Harry Potter, seeker and vice-captain."

"I've seen him around," said the girl, her eyes twinkling, and she giggled as Harry made a face. 

"Everyone, this is Kate de Loor," Angelina continued. "She –" 

"It's de _Leur_," moaned Kate, as if people got this wrong often. 

"Sorry," said Angelina. 

"Are you sure you're a third year?" said Fred, a little doubtfully. Kate rounded on him. 

"Are you making fun of my size?" she demanded, her eyes flashing dangerously. 

"No," said Fred quickly, backing away with his hands held up in surrender. "Wouldn't dream of it. What I mean is – can you keep?"

"Let's fly," she replied frostily. "I'll show you how well I can keep."

Any doubts anyone had had about Kate de Leur vanished after the first five minutes of trying to get a ball past her. After ten such minutes, Fred landed and rolled off his broom onto the ground. 

"Please take her," he groaned at Angelina who had stayed on the ground, lying on his back. "I can't take it any more."

"Had enough?" Kate asked him sweetly as the rest flew down beside him. 

"I know I have," said Harry, flopping down beside Fred, his heart burning and his brow sweaty. "Oliver?" 

"You're certainly very talented," said Oliver, unwilling to admit that anyone might be almost as good a keeper as he was. 

"Thank you," said Kate. 

"Ok," said Angelina. "You're in."

Kate grinned, grabbed her broom and commenced a victory lap of the pitch. 

"How can she keep going?" moaned George. "How?"

Anneka, who had been standing on the sidelines watching with Angelina and Oliver, laughed. "Oh, to be on a school team again," she joked. 

"Would you like to fly with me?" Oliver asked. 

Harry leant her his broom, and she joined Oliver in the air. They didn't play with balls, but instead flew together in a kind of graceful, ritual dance. 

The others left after a while, but Harry, waiting for his broom, watched the whole thing. 

Anneka's face was shining when she handed the Firebolt back to Harry. "What a broom," she exulted. "What a feeling."

"I've always been rather fond of it," Harry admitted. 

"And I want to see you on it," said Oliver. "Come on Harry, let's see that move."

Harry made his Wronski Feint extra spectacular, just for Oliver, then somehow stood through the clapping on the back that remained to be endured from his old captain.

They made their way back up to the castle in the warn noon sun. 

When they reached the Entrance Hall, they were greeted by a shrill cry – "Anneka!" – and Sarah Pordell came running down the staircase two at a time, thick black plaits flying. 

She threw herself into the older girl's arms, and Harry realised that she was crying.  

Anneka smiled at Harry and Oliver from over Sarah's shoulder, and motioned for them to go on. "Let's go up to Gryffindor, Harry," said Oliver. "They've set aside a room for us." 

Harry waited until they were well out of earshot before asking incredulously, "Sarah is Anneka's cousin?"

"Yes, said Oliver, looking surprised that Harry had asked. "You know her parents recently died?"

Harry nodded. 

"Anneka and her parents are her only living relatives and legal guardians," Oliver continued. "Anneka is here to make sure she's all right."

There was a pause as they walked. "I hear you're a prefect," said Oliver, as if to fill the silence. 

"Yeah," said Harry. "I've not done all that much yet, though. Hermione usually manages to keep peace in the common room and stuff. I give her a hand if people aren't listening to her."

"I bet they listen to you," said Oliver with a grin. "They adore you."

"They respect me," said Harry, modestly. "It's not the same thing." 

Oliver laughed, just as they reached the portrait hole. 

They were mobbed as soon as they got inside the common room. 

Harry left Oliver with his admirers, and went up to the fifth year dormitory, where he knew that Ron was lying on his bed reading. He wasn't sure how he knew that, he just did. 

"Good practise?" Ron asked when he got in.

"Brilliant," he replied. "Kate de Leur has got a temper like a hippogriff, but she's an amazing flyer."

"Good," Ron yawned. "Fancy a game of chess?"

"Ok," said Harry slowly. Something was a little wrong here. "Where's Hermione?"

Ron shrugged. "We had a fight," he said. "Nothing major. I guess she's hiding from me somewhere."

Harry felt that Ron wasn't quite telling him everything. As he grabbed some clothes to change into, he probed his mind gently. There was a thin barrier between his and Ron's minds, but he jumped it easily, and went looking for a memory.  

…

_Hermione made a move – a fatal move. _

_Ron grinned in triumph and reached out to slide his queen into the winning position – but Hermione's arm shot out and caught his hand before he could even touch it. _

_He tried to pull it back, but she held it firmly, turning it so that the thin scar from thumb to little finger was clearly visible. She looked up at him, her eyes burning. _

_"What's this?" she asked, her voice as cold as ice. _

_"Broken glass," Ron mumbled, tugging his hand out of her grasp. _

_"I don't believe you," said Hermione. "It's too clean a cut."_

_"That's your problem, not mine," said Ron, moving his queen at last. "Checkmate."_

_"Ron, we oughtn't to have secrets from each other." _

_"Oh? Did somebody pass that law while I wasn't watching?"_

_She stood up. "I hate you, Ron!" she screamed. The entire common room looked around to watch the emerging fight. _

_"Hermione, you're getting hysterical."_

"No I'm not!" she yelled, stamping her foot. "You and Harry are keeping something from me and I hate it!" With that, she turned and ran up the stairs. 

…

The memory was wrenched from Harry's mind. 

"Stop that!" Ron yelled at him from across the room. 

"Sorry," Harry said. "I couldn't help it."

There was an uncomfortable silence. 

"You did the right thing," said Harry at last.

"Mm," said Ron, doubtfully. "How about that game?"

Harry realised that, in the end, there was nothing he could do, so he settled down to begin a game of chess, wondering, as well as other things, where Sirius had got to.

…

Much later, Harry lay asleep in bed until he was roughly awoken, by a searing pain across his left hand. 

He sat up sharply and looked at it. He could see nothing in the dark, so he reached for his wand as his palm burned again. 

"Lumos," he whispered. 

He squinted painfully against the sudden bright light, but was eventually able to see the words flickering beneath his fingers. 

'_Help… pain…run…'_

_'Remus? Is that you?'_

_'Pain… run… safety…'_

_'Sirius? What's going on?'_

_'Trees… pain… help… safety…'_

_'Harry? It's Sirius - are you ok?'_

_'I'm fine. What's wrong with Remus?'_

_'Help… please… pain… please…'_

_'He's hurting! He's in trouble!'_

_'Harry, calm down. I don't know what's wrong, but it sounds like he's going through a transformation.'_

_'Now?'_

_'Help… pain… help… please… safety…'_

_'He should have had enough potion to last him this month at least. There must have been some accident.'_

_'Trees… safety…'_

_'Is he heading for the Forest? Is that what he means?'_

_'Harry –'_

_'Please… help…'_

_'He needs help! He's in pain!'_

_'Harry, I'm ordering you right now to stay where you are. Do not go after him, do you understand? I'm coming as quickly as I can.'_

_'But what if he –?'_

_'Promise me!'_

_'I promise.'_

'Good. Stay there. I'm coming.'

Harry waited until the connection was thoroughly severed before dressing and making his way downstairs towards the portrait hole. 

'_Would you rather freeze to death…?'_

_…_

Professor Dumbledore's day had not been fun. Minister Fudge – although now acknowledging the attacks on both wizards and Muggles, was not prepared to admit that the attacks in question were in anyway connected to the Dark Lord.

Dumbledore had spent most of his day filing papers and sending letters in the hope that one of his 'sparks' might start a fire somewhere in the ministry. 

A rather futile issue involving the deputy headmistress and the potions master had taken up the rest of the day. It had to do with second year papers, and the never-ceasing argument had been tedious since it began. 

"I still say ability is more important than effort," Professor Snape said for the thousandth time. "Those marks are needless."

"But they are earned," said Professor McGonagall. "Surely the preparation counts for something." It was also the thousandth time she had said this. 

"I don't –" started Snape, but he was interrupted by a timid, yet frantic knock on the door. 

"Come in," said Professor Dumbledore. Snape and McGonagall looked around as the door opened, and a house elf zoomed in. 

Snape looked livid at its behaviour, but Dumbledore stood up. "What is it, Dobby?" he asked the little creature. The house-elf had on the strangest assortment of clothes any one of them had ever seen.   

"Forgive Dobby sir," it said, jumping up and down in worried excitement. "But Dobby must tell Professor Dumbledore at once, sir!"

"Go ahead, Dobby," said Dumbledore. He seemed to sense trouble, his eyes were like flints behind his half-moon spectacles, and his wand had somehow flown into his hand. 

"Dobby was cleaning the floor in the Entrance Hall, sir. Dobby was nearly finished sir, but I is hearing running, so I is hiding in the cupboard, sir. But I is peeking through the keyhole, and Harry Potter is coming, sir!

"So Dobby is getting out of the cupboard and saying 'Hello!', sir. But Mr. Harry Potter is not happy sir, he is looking very angry!"

At this, even Snape stood up. "What happened then?" he demanded. Dobby flinched a little, but was too excited to hesitate in his story. 

"Harry Potter said to Dobby, he said, 'Find Professor Dumbledore,' and that's what Dobby has done, sir!"

"Anything else?" asked Professor Dumbledore.

"Oh, yes sir!" exclaimed Dobby. "Harry Potter is opening the door," he continued. "And then," he said as his eyes grew as large as dinner plates. 

"Harry Potter is turning into a huge, black stag." 

**Ah, what a charming cliffie.

As I'm sure you're aware, after tomorrow I will have to declare this fic an AU. Keep reading!

Laterose **


	24. Confrontations in the Hospital Wing

**Hello and welcome to chapter 24. Last time I forgot to say a special thanks, so thank you to **mell** – my 1000th reviewer!!!!!

Yes, I have read the fifth book (angry growl) I read it during the first few hours after I got back from school on Saturday. (Well when I say few I mean 9 solid hours but bear with me). I can assure you that the 'one who dies' in OotP will not die in this story – well, straight away, anyway. 

-Ducks flying tomatoes-

Disclaimer: Here I must disclaim all rights to The Lion King, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and any other fabulous pieces of work from which I have borrowed jokes – as I am the most unfunny person in the entire world.

Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to mell (1000th reviewer) and to Sarah 'Pordell' (whose 14th Birthday it is today). **

Harry pounded across the forest floor, his eyes darting back and forth through the trees. 

If he had had time, he would have rejoiced in the glorious feeling the movement gave him.

He was soaring past bushes, glades and rocky plateaus. His antlers tossed as he turned his head this way and that, searching.

He was deep into the forest now, further than he'd ever been before. It was almost pitch black, the only light being patches of moonlight on the ground wherever the trees thinned.

Suddenly a huge black shape leapt out in front of him, and he reared, his hooves pawing the air at lightning speed. 

The black shape growled menacingly, just as Harry forced his human instincts to take control of his human ones and thumped his fore hooves to the ground.

The wolf crouching before him was at least as long as Harry's new form, and at its full height would be almost as tall. 

Its fur was black in the almost non-existent light, but its teeth gleamed white with a light of their own. Its snout was abnormally long. It was, without question, a werewolf.

Harry took one step back, and the werewolf crouched even lower, teeth fully bared and fur standing on end, ready to pounce. 

Ever so slowly, Harry sank to his elegant fore knees, in a sort of bow, an indication of respect, or so he hoped, anyway. 

The werewolf's eyes met his own. Behind the savage, fixed expression and red points of light in the pupils, there seemed to be the faintest flicker of recognition. 

Then it was snuffed out like a candle, and the wolf leapt at Harry with its inch-long claws bared.

If Harry hadn't already been kneeling, he would have fallen. As it was, he roared in pain, blood pouring from his foreleg as he scrambled upright. 

Surprisingly, the wolf backed off at the sound, its tail between its legs and its expression slightly less savage. 

Suspicious, Harry too a couple more steps backwards, his leg searing with agony every time he moved. The ground was splattered with red blood that lit up in a strange, ugly sort of way. 

The werewolf still made no move, and Harry watched intently the battle going on behind its eyes, the part of it that was still Remus struggling to gain some ounce of control.

Eventually, the werewolf took a step forward – a submissive, indecisive step. Harry moved closer too, as slowly as was physically possible so as not to startle it.

Its wet nose touched Harry's shoulder, and Harry froze, but the werewolf seemed merely curious as it nuzzled against him. 

Then it lay down on the forest floor, looking up at Harry with grateful, adoring eyes, as though it were not a man-killing beast but a playful puppy in need of a scratch on the belly. 

Tentatively, still unsure of how far he could trust this animal, Harry lay down beside him. 

Seeming content, the werewolf lay back against him, and Harry steeled himself for a long night. 

. * . * . * .

Professor McGonagall squinted at the trees through the darkness. 

"I still can't see anything," she said. 

"Patience," said Dumbledore. 

"Patience?" she asked, her voice shrill. "Potter is an _unregistered animagus! That's very advanced – and dangerous – magic!" _

"Are you really so surprised?" drawled Professor Snape, sounding vaguely amused. "Potter would do anything to show off a little more. Personally I'm astounded that the entire school doesn't already know."

"If they did he'd have been arrested by now," said McGonagall, clenching her hands as if she wanted to punch something – like Snape's face.

Dumbledore ignored them. He rested his eyes for moment, looking up at the night sky. 

There was no sign of the sun as yet, though it was almost morning, but the moon was still bright and full. 

They stood there for maybe another hour, until the moon sunk beneath the horizon, and the sun rose, as red as blood. 

"We've been here all night, Albus," Snape growled. "Don't you think it's time to –?"

"Look, there!" Professor McGonagall cried suddenly. 

A huge, dark, hideously deformed shape was looming out of the blackness of the forest. As one, the three teachers drew their wands. 

The shape moved slowly towards them, but as it drew closer, they saw that it was not one shape, but two – a stag, with a figure of a man draped across it. 

Dumbledore lowered his wand and beckoned to the other two. The three of them moved closer to meet the majestic animal. 

Although it appeared to have injured the right foreleg in some way, the stag still made an impressive sight. 

It was completely black, from hooves to antlers, which appeared to be made of ebony, so dark a shade were they. 

"Albus," said Professor McGonagall, her voice slightly constricted. "That man – it's Remus Lupin!"

Snape rolled his eyes, but Dumbledore reached out his hand to touch the stag's forehead. 

"Harry?"

The stag made a kind of half bow, crouching and shaking slightly so that Lupin slid off his back. The pale man did not appear to have any serious injuries.

The stag leaned over and nuzzled at him. Lupin's eyes opened, and he lifted a shaking hand to the animal's forelock. 

"James?" he whispered. "I'm so tired…" and his hand went limp.

Dumbledore conjured a stretcher from nowhere and floated Lupin's still body onto it. He turned to the stag, which was now holding its right foreleg just above the ground. There was a long, deep gnash almost from thigh to ankle. 

"We need to get up to the hospital wing," Dumbledore told him gently. "Can you transform?"

. * .

Harry looked up at his headmaster. His head was swimming with pain still, and he didn't need to be told that he had lost a lot of blood. He tried to clear his mind of thought and to speak the words inside his head. 

His human form refused to come forth. It was too large and too complex for him to even attempt – so he chose something a little easier. 

. * .

Dumbledore looked down at the black cat staring helplessly up at him. "That'll do, I suppose," he said. 

Professor McGonagall was spluttering incoherently, and Snape had gone as white as a sheet as they both took an involuntary step back from Harry. 

"Albus!" McGonagall squeaked. "He's… he's a…"

"An Animuchos, yes, I know," Dumbledore said calmly. "I believe he would like you to carry him."

. * .

Harry would have protested – he certainly wanted no such thing – but McGonagall was already placing long-fingered hands around his thin waist. 

She lifted him gently, and brought his black, furry face close to her own. 

"We're going to have a long talk about this later, My Lord," she said.

. * . * . * . * . 

It was about six o'clock in the morning when they finally entered the hospital wing. 

Perhaps it came from many years of practise at Hogwarts, where accidents were second nature to every other pupil, but Madam Pomfrey was up and dressed thirty seconds after Dumbledore knocked on her office door. 

"What is it this time?" she demanded as she bustled into the centre of the room, red faced with her hands on her hips, her matron's apron slightly askew. 

Her eyes took in Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall and the cat in her arms, and finally, Remus Lupin on a stretcher.  

She took her wand out, waved it over Remus, and said "_Revello!"_

A shadowy form of a wolf's head emerged from Remus' chest to glare at Madam Pomfrey, it's tongue lolling. 

"I know that," she told it sharply. It shivered, and dissolved into an insubstantial grey mist, which disappeared when Madam Pomfrey waved her wand impatiently at it. 

"He's just tired," she said with relief as she floated him onto a bed. "He'll be all right after some rest. What happened, Headmaster?" 

"Well, I suppose we have reason to believe that for some reason, Remus Lupin was unable to take the wolfs bane potion tonight. Knowing the threat he posed to the school, he managed to make his way to the forbidden forest. Harry went after him."

"Potter?" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. "Where is he?" 

"We will deal with Harry at the appropriate time, Poppy," said Dumbledore. "For the moment, I would like you to have a look at this cat."

Madam Pomfrey eyed Harry critically. "I'm not a vet, Headmaster."

"Do your best, Poppy," said Dumbledore. 

Harry, however, now that he was in the warmth and safety of the hospital wing, felt much better. He didn't even hurt all that much any more.

He struggled to get out of McGonagall's arms, and she put him down on the nearest bed, opposite to where Remus was lying.  

Breathing deeply, and clearing his mind, he transformed. Madam Pomfrey screamed. 

Harry looked down at himself. 

He was still wearing his robes, but they were torn and muddy. The right sleeve was off entirely, exposing his injured arm.  

"Did I know that would happen?" he asked nobody in particular. 

"Potter! Potter…!" Madam Pomfrey gasped. 

"Yes?" asked Harry, looking up at her. 

Maybe he _shouldn't _have attempted that transformation. He felt awfully dizzy, and he couldn't really think up anything vaguely sensible to say. 

"You're an animagus!"

"Animuchos, actually," he said, feeling dizzier. "It's a very silly word, isn't it? Will Remus be ok?"

She came closer, slowly, as if she didn't really want to, and looked into his eyes, then at his arm, which was still oozing blood. 

It looked a lot deeper than before, now Harry came to think of it. 

"He'll be fine after he gets some sleep," she said, absent-mindedly. "You, on the other hand, have lost a lot of blood. This is going to have to heal naturally."

"Why?"

"If I try to do it magically, it'll wither and be useless. You don't want that, do you?"

Harry sighed, feeling as though he'd been drugged with something awfully nice.

"I suppose not."

"Mm." She cleaned his cut with a foul smelling potion that hissed when it came into contact with his skin. Harry didn't even flinch. She looked into his eyes once more. 

"Didn't that hurt?" she asked. 

He shook his head. Frowning, she wrapped his arm with bandages, sealing them with an unbreakable charm so he wouldn't be able to fiddle with them. 

"Sleep," she ordered. "Now."

"But – I've got Transfiguration in a couple of hours…"

"I'm sure Professor McGonagall will excuse you," said Madam Pomfrey, looking at McGonagall for confirmation, and she nodded. 

"You're not going anywhere."

Harry would have argued but he was so tired he couldn't have cared less. Before he knew what was happening his head hit the pillow. 

. * .

"– after four days," Dumbledore was saying. "I was really quite impressed, but I never expected that he wouldn't need any further instruction. Mundungus took care of that for us."

Harry opened his eyes slowly. He was still in the hospital, and the dividing curtains were up all around him. Voices were coming from behind them. 

He was about to call to them to show he was awake, but he broke out in a fit of coughing instead. 

The curtains were quickly drawn back. Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall were sitting on chairs around his bed. Harry seemed to remember them being there when he'd come out of the forest. 

"What was all that about?" he asked when he'd finished coughing. 

"The loss of blood had started to affect your brain," Dumbledore explained casually. "Poppy had to give you some blood-strengthening potion while you were asleep. It's only natural that having things poured down your throat would affect you that way." 

"Affect my _brain_?" Harry said, incredulously.

"Not that there's much of a one to affect," Snape murmured.  

"Thanks," said Harry. 

"Watch it, Potter, unless you want bandages everywhere else." 

Dumbledore glared at Snape, and he looked away. 

"Ah, you're awake," said Madam Pomfrey, coming out of her office looking slightly tidier. 

"How long have I been asleep?" Harry asked. 

"About ten minutes," said Pomfrey. "You only needed to sleep long enough for you to have the blood-strengthening potion. It wouldn't have worked if you had been awake. Anything else you want to know?"

Harry could see that she was irritated, so he shook his head. 

"Right. In that case, let's get those robes off."

"What?" Harry asked, startled. 

"Potter, they're filthy. Off with them, now."

Blushing furiously, Harry pulled off his robes and T-shirt, which was also shredded beyond recognition, leaving him in his jeans, which weren't quite in as much of a bad state. 

Unfortunately, this left his scars and marks fully visible to the one person he least wanted to see them – Professor Snape. He was staring, eyes wide, at Harry's chest.

"Go on," he said to Snape, challengingly. "Go ahead and say it."

"Say what, Potter?" drawled the Potions Master. 

"Never mind," said Harry. 

Madam Pomfrey inspected the old wounds briefly, and then passed Harry a spare hospital shirt – after removing the right sleeve with a flick of her wand. 

It itched like no one's business, but Harry was grateful. He didn't want Snape – or McGonagall for that matter – to stare at him for any longer than was necessary. 

He looked at the bandage on his arm, and then glanced over at Remus, who still lay prone on the opposite bench. 

"What time is it?" he asked. 

"About half past six," said Dumbledore. "The school will be up and about in about half an hour."

"Good," said Harry decidedly. He wasn't staying here any longer than he had to – _that _was for sure. 

Quite suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Hagrid came in, looking flustered. As he had before in the hospital wing, he looked simply too big to be allowed.

He was about to speak, but then he saw Harry and Remus lying in opposite beds, and seemed to become distracted somehow. 

"Harry? What you doin' 'ere?" 

"It's nothing, much," said Harry quickly. 

"Is there something you wanted to tell me, Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked, his sapphire eyes flashing. 

"Er… yeah, right," said Hagrid, coming to himself. "Er... one of the house-elves told me I could find you here, Professor. I just thought you ought to know…"

"Yes?" Dumbledore prompted him, calmly. 

"Well, like I were saying, I thought I'd tell ye… there's summat flyin' in from the northern side, Professor. Headin' straight for us. Saw 't from me house."

"Ah," said Dumbledore. "Was there anything special you noticed about this bird?"

"Oh, no sir," Hagrid said quickly. "It ain't no bird – but it ain't no broom neither. If'n ye want me opinion – well, it could be my eyes a'failin' me – but it looked to me… like a Hippogriff."

Harry's heart dropped into his stomach.

Hagrid looked guiltily back up at Dumbledore. "I couldn' be sure, sir," he said, his voice a little gruffer than usual. "But that's what it looks like, right enough."

"I see," said Dumbledore, glancing at Harry. 

Harry didn't look down at his hand, but thought desperately to Sirius through their tie – _"We're in the Hospital Wing, Sirius. Don't you dare come to the front door."_

He couldn't tell whether his Godfather answered or not. 

"He's coming to the window," Harry said to Dumbledore. "Or he'd better."

"I suppose you had better stay here, Hagrid," sighed Professor Dumbledore. "Let's get this over with."

"Who is it, Dumbledore?" asked McGonagall. 

"_What_ is it?" asked Madam Pomfrey. 

"I think I can hazard a guess," Snape growled. 

Harry looked up at the window at the far end of the ward. It was as large as a church door, thankfully, but looked as though it hadn't been open in years. Instead, the smaller windows lining the south wall were flung wide perpetually for fresh air, except when it was raining, when they closed themselves. 

"I think we'd better open it," he suggested, but no one heard him because they were too busy attacking Snape and Dumbledore with questions. 

"I said, I think we'd better open it," he said louder. 

"I said –"

_WHOOSH!_

With a huge rush of air, the Hippogriff had appeared outside the enormous window. The sound it made at it's dive rattled the glass as Madam Pomfrey screamed for the second time and McGonagall put her hands to her ears.

Harry leaned over as far as he could go and thrust out his bandaged arm to point at the window. "Alohamora Maxis!" he yelled, and the power rocketed through him to open the huge window with a bang. 

Once the Hippogriff and its rider were inside again, it closed itself, groaning and creaking with age. 

There was silence in the ward as the Hippogriff's rider dismounted. It was wearing a huge, enveloping black robe, and its face was undistinguishable behind the hood. A Dementor?

"Expecto Patronum!" yelled four voices at once, Dumbledore being as calm as cake and Hagrid unable to do magic. 

A silver stag, an overgrown silver cat, an insubstantial silver beaver and a silver … well, it looked like a kappa, went straight for the robed figure, but stopped within a metre of it. 

"Do you mind?" said a voice from beneath the hood. All four shapes disappeared.

It was Sirius' voice. Harry thumped back onto his pillows with utter relief. 

"I think that's rather rude, don't you?" Sirius asked the Hippogriff cheerfully. 

Hagrid's face was as pale as death. "Beaky?" he croaked. 

Sirius jumped out of the way as Buckbeak went into what could only be called hysterics. 

"Beaky! Buckbeak, me beauty!" Even Hagrid's entirety could not help but be bowled over by the ecstatic Hippogriff. Quite a few tables got knocked over during their greeting.

When things had calmed down a little, and Hagrid and Buckbeak had settled for merely clinging to each other for dear life, tears floating down Hagrid's hairy face like rivers, Sirius spoke again. 

"He is yours then? I never did quite get the whole story…"

"How…" Hagrid choked. "Who…"

"Sorry?" said Sirius. "Oh, Harry."

"_Harry?_" Hagrid's teary face swung round to face Harry on the bed. 

Harry shrugged. "Happy Birthday, Hagrid, for whenever it is."

"You saved him? Why didn' you tell me?"

Harry grimaced. If he had a Knut for every time someone had asked him that question, he'd have about enough money to buy out Gringotts Bank.

Sirius brushed himself off. 

"Hello, Snape," he said, almost cheerfully. 

"You," Snape spat. "What are you doing here?"

"That is a very stupid question."

"What have you done to your face?"

"It's pure darkness. Do you like it?"

"Darkness?" Dumbledore asked, interested. 

"Yes. I found a way to harness darkness and hold it in one place. As long as I keep the hood up, you can't see my face. Unfortunately it makes me look like I'm on holiday from Azkaban, but you can't have everything."

"Aren't you?" Snape drawled. "On holiday from Azkaban, I mean."

"Very funny, Snape," said Sirius darkly. "You should send that in to the witch weekly. They have a page for people like you."

"Can you see through that? Or are you just going to walk around aimlessly bumping into things?"

"Yes, I can see through it, actually. Brilliant, isn't it?"

"Not particularly. I just thought that it might be amusing to watch you if you couldn't."

"Dumbledore, who is this man?" Madam Pomfrey asked. 

"Yes, I should like to know that too, Albus," said McGonagall. 

"Who were lookin' after Beaky all this time?" sobbed Hagrid. 

"I am afraid that these questions must remain unanswered for the moment," said Dumbledore, gravely, eyeing Sirius. "You took a great risk coming here."

Sirius shrugged beneath the huge cloak. "I felt it was worth it, for several reasons. And if you don't mind, I'm going to deal with one of those reasons right now."

He turned to Harry, who looked straight back, unflinching. 

"Somebody's in big, _big _trouble," Sirius said. 

"Who, me?" said Harry looking over both shoulders as if trying to see if someone else was there behind him. 

"Yes, you," said Sirius, choosing not to comment on his action. "You deliberately disobeyed me."

"You sound like Mufasa," Harry mumbled. 

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing."

"You promised me, sincerely, that you would not move from your bed, let alone the castle," Sirius continued, unperturbed. "Do you realise how badly you could have been hurt?"

Harry looked at him pointedly, and Sirius' eyes strayed to the bandage on Harry's arm, from the wrist almost to shoulder. 

Sirius swore loudly. "You see what I mean?"

"Listen," said Harry. "He was hurting and in pain – _I was in pain, you didn't expect me just to ignore him, did you?"_

"He's done this before," Sirius said sharply. "Once more would not have killed him."

"That's brutal!"

"But true. Remus is quite old enough to take care of himself."

"And I'm not?"

"Harry –"

"Fine," said Harry, changing tack at the speed of light. "What about all the other people that might have got hurt if I hadn't helped him? What if Hagrid or someone had been out in the forest and got bitten?"

"There are other wolves in the forest," Sirius said.

"I was a stag, right? You lot never got hurt when you were out with him."

"Want to bet? I've still got the scars if you'd like to see them."

"I'll bet no one ever told you to stop helping him."

"You're wrong. Remus did himself, many times."

"My dad would say I was doing the right thing."

"I knew your father. He would never want you to get hurt, even on Remus' behalf."

Harry's voice rose to an impressive crescendo.

"I'll tell you what, why don't I just do what I like and you can stop sticking your nose in what I do?"

"Because it is my business what you do, Harry, and I don't want you getting hurt either."

"Why are you always acting like I'm some kind of fragile invalid who'll smash as soon as I take one step? Stop treating me like a child!"

"You are not an adult yet, Harry."

"And you're not my father!" 

There was an uncomfortable silence while both caught their breath. Hagrid, McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were staring in shock. Dumbledore's face was expressionless, and Snape was looking contemptuous. 

Sirius sat down on the bed next to Harry's, obviously conscious that everyone was watching him. 

"I know," he said quietly. "I know I'm not."

Harry suddenly realised how much he had hurt his godfather by saying that. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "You were right."

"Only in part, maybe," said Sirius.  Another uncomfortable pause. "How badly hurt are you? The truth?"

"He lost a lot of blood," Madam Pomfrey interrupted. "The wound has to heal naturally – and he'll have a nasty scar."

"Oh, well," said Harry. "I suppose one more won't make too much difference."

"Yes," said Sirius, "plus – girls like scars."

Harry smiled at him, and everything was all right again. "How long are you here for?" he asked. 

Sirius looked quickly up at Dumbledore before answering. "I'm not sure," he said carefully. "Until something else comes up for me to do."

"Where are you hiding?"

"Hiding?" 

"Yeah. If Wendy catches you, you're dragon fodder."

"She won't catch me," Sirius said confidently. 

"Listen, I know her – I've fought her – you're better off hiding."

"You _fought _her?"

Before Harry could answer, Remus stirred in the bed opposite. 

"What's going on?"

"Are you all right, Moony?" Sirius called, without moving his head. 

"Padfoot? What're you doing here?"

"Never you mind. Are you all right?"

"Yes – I think so…"

"Good. Now I can start pounding on you."

Slowly, as if it was the last thing he wanted to do, Remus raised himself on his elbows. He took in Dumbledore, Hagrid, Buckbeak, McGonagall, Pomfrey, and finally, Sirius and Harry.

"_Harry?_" 

"Good morning," Harry greeted him. 

"What the hell happened?"

"You tell me," Sirius growled. 

Remus sat still for a few seconds, as if trying to remember. Then, with a groan, he thumped back onto his pillows.

"Do you know," he said. "I haven't done that for so long that I'd almost forgotten how much it hurts."

Sirius stood up, his anger evident if not in his shrouded face, then in his posture.

"What possessed you -?" he started, but Remus held up a weary hand. 

"Padfoot, hear me out before you grind me into little pieces. Someone has taken all the wolfs bane potion you made for me. All of it."

"What? That's forty bottles worth!"

"I know, but it's gone. I didn't have any time to do anything but run for the forest. You understand that, don't you?"

"Couldn't you have kept it to yourself?"

Harry glared at Sirius. How dared he? Remus, however, looked thoughtfully worried.

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean that you broadcasted your current situation – at some length – to both Harry and me. Mr. Rent-a-Hero here decided to come after you."

Remus went deathly white almost immediately as he sat up again. 

"That was _Harry_? I thought I was dreaming…"

"You thought I was my dad," said Harry, quietly.

"Well, yes, actually – I'm not always too rational when I'm in that state – but, are you…? I mean…"

"Hurt?" said Sirius. "Yes, he is."

"It's nothing," Harry said quickly. 

"I wouldn't call it nothing," said Sirius.

"You weren't there. It's called self-defence."

"It's called stupidity," said Remus, thumping back down onto the pillows for the second time. "God, somebody shoot me now and do the world a favour."

"You said someone took all the potion," said Harry. "That means it was a deliberate attempt to hurt somebody. You were right to run to the forest."

There was a silence from everyone else. Harry felt he was missing something.

"What?" he asked. 

"But someone did get hurt," said Sirius slowly.

"Well, yeah, me, but that doesn't… I mean, no one knows about…do they?"

"Harry, you used the cat, didn't you, when you were after Wormtail?" said Remus.

"Yeah…"

"But you never saw him after you left the door?"

"No… but he doesn't know about… you know, _us."_

"A desperate plan," said Sirius. "Let's just add that to the list of reasons why I'm going to kill him the next time I see him."

"Not if I get to him first," said Remus, with feeling.

"Or me," Harry added.

"Well," said Dumbledore. "Now that that's all settled –"

There was a frantic knocking on the door for the second time, and Ron entered.

**He he he, I just love these little cliffies, don't you? Well, you can't say this one is as bad as the last one. I'm off to post!!!! 

~*Laterose*~

**


	25. In which Harry becomes indiscrete, and H...

** Ahem, ahem, hello all. School as we know it has officially ended until I start my new school in Australia in September. Yippee!!!

I am also exhausted because I have recently been involved in a full scale production of Carmina Burana – and I am due to go to Barcelona for a week starting this Saturday, so no updates, folks!

THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO: Charley – for being the 100th person to put me on their favourite author's list!!!!!!

I am glad you were all very impressed by my chapter title. I had a bet with myself that it wouldn't completely fit the box and I was right! Could you imagine that in the real book? It would take up a whole page!!!

…

A note to Phoenixpadfoot89:

You know, I think you are the kind of person who goes around being mean to people just for the fun of it. I mean, if you are going to be critical, you could at least be civil. I quote:

'this is a gay story,(it really sucks) you should Quit writing fanfiction, All your work sucks

this story is dumb...& the REAL OOtP is already out!  ~No offense (hehe) but your fanfiction sucks~

Your story is horrible just like you. You are hideous you beast.'

I mean, if you really think you can do better, you could at least leave me a URL so I could read the amazing work you have produced that seems to give you the right to say cruel things about other people's hard work. If you don't think you can do better – well, you shouldn't have implied so in the first place. 

…

IMPORTANT NOTICE: As you all know, I am the least funny person in the entire universe and beyond. However, I would like to bring to your attention that the comical genius and my great friend Anya Wood (), has written a highly amusing HP fic which I strongly advise you to read. It is named Locked in the Dungeon, and will have you in stitches in a matter of seconds!

Now that I am done being a walking advertisement, on with the fic!! **

Ron stood in the doorway, taking in all that he saw in much the same way had Remus had just done. He narrowed his eyes at the sight of the hooded and robed figure by Harry's bed. 

"Who are you?" he asked, a little hoarsely. 

"Take a wild guess," said Sirius, cheerfully. 

Ron sighed with relief. "I thought you maybe might have been a Death Eater."

"Yeah, and still be in here, because…"

"Good point," said Ron, smiling at him. There was definitely something wrong with his voice. 

"Ron," said Harry. "Are you ok?"

"That all depends," said Ron, turning to look at him with a blank face. "Are _you_ ok?"

Harry just stared at him. He wasn't sure whether he could believe what Ron was supposedly trying to tell him.

Ron lifted the sleeve of his school robes. Beneath it, they all saw clearly a thin white line, not a cut, nor quite a scar. It started just above his wrist and extended further than they could see beneath Ron's robes.

Harry swore. 

"Language Potter," said Ron, smiling wryly. "It was there when I woke up. I'm rather surprised it didn't hurt, actually."

"So am I," said Harry. "Especially if it looks like _that_."

"Let's see yours then," said Ron, and Harry motioned to his bandage. 

"I'd show you, but I'm forbidden to remove this."

"Owch."

"Yep."

"What is going on here?" asked Madam Pomfrey, a little shrilly. The two boys ignored her. They were two intrigued by this new example of what the connection between them could do.

"How did you know where to find us?"

"I guessed. Something like that," Ron pointed at Harry's arm, "couldn't really land you anywhere else. So what _did _happen?"

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "Remus had a bit of an accident. I helped out."

Ron paled. "You mean… like your Dad used to do?"

"Er… I guess so, if you put it that way…"

"You idiot! You could have been killed!"

Harry flinched. Being scolded by Sirius was one thing, by Ron was another. He'd never admit it, but Ron seemed to have inherited his mother's unbeatable talent for telling people off.

"Not really. Werewolves aren't a danger to animals, remember? I used a stag form."

"They can't turn you into another werewolf – but what's to stop them tearing you to little pieces? Sorry, Professor," he added to Remus, who had suddenly gone even paler than before, if that was at all possible. 

"Spare me the lecture," said Harry. "I've already had one – or two." 

"That's not all," said Ron, shaking slightly. "I can't believe you'd be so selfish. If you'd have died, what do you think would have happened to _me_?"

Silence. 

Then Harry managed to choke out, "I didn't think… I mean, I didn't know… how was I meant to know this would happen?"

Even as he spoke the words, he realised how stupid they sounded. He felt ignorant, and selfish. He could have killed Ron. 

As he thought more about this, a terrible fear rose in his chest, a fear not of something to come as much as something that might have been.

"I – I'm sorry." He knew the words were useless to correct the severity of what he could have done, but they had to be said.

"Well, that's something, I suppose," said Ron, shrugging.

Harry looked at him in disbelief. "You're not angry?"

"Not really. Considering we only found out about it this morning, it _was _a little late for you to have figured out what not to do."

"That makes no sense, but ok." Harry suddenly realised something and groaned. 

"Hermione is absolutely going to kill us now."

"I keep telling you, she isn't going to find out…" Ron suddenly became aware that he was blabbing rather efficiently in front of the Headmaster, Snape, and Sirius, not to mention McGonagall, Remus, Hagrid, and the school Matron. 

~_Oops. ~_

_Yeah._

"Will somebody kindly inform me as to precisely what you two are talking about?" Sirius asked, just a little dangerously. 

"Us?" said Harry, innocently, knowing he'd already lost.

"Yes."

"Oh, all right," sighed Harry. 

"What? Harry, what are you doing?" exclaimed Ron. 

"Ron is my Blood Brother," Harry said quickly. 

This news was greeted with a stunned silence. 

~_Nice one_,~ Ron sent. 

_Look at McGonagall's face,_ Harry replied. _I should do stuff like this more often._

~_What did you do it for? ~_

_How would you have explained it?_

~_Good point. ~_

"Really?" Remus was finally able to choke out. "How… interesting…"

"Harry," said Sirius, sounding as though it was taking every ounce of will he possessed to stay calm. "My nerves aren't what they used to be. I'm not up to these little shocks."

"Well," said Dumbledore. "How enlightening. I hope you are keeping the results of this experiment well recorded. You could write a book. You'd make millions."

Ron's eyes lit up for a second, but then darkened when he realised that they hadn't written anything down at all. 

_Hermione would probably do that for us,_ Harry told him. 

~ _She'd have to dig us up first, ~ _he replied. 

.*.

At that precise moment in time, Hermione was feeling just about ready to do worse than bury her two best friends. She was going to cremate them – preferably alive. 

She had woken up at six o'clock that morning, fed Crookshanks; petted Madeleine who'd popped down for some owl treats, and packed her bag. 

By the time Lavender and Parvati were up and complaining about the state of their hair after a night in bed, which was fairly routine, Hermione was ready to make her way downstairs to the Gryffindor common room. 

Usually, Harry, whom Hermione knew didn't get nearly as much sleep as he ought to, was waiting for her, and they'd go and throw Ron out of bed together. 

Today however, he had not been waiting for her in the common room, and, a little vexed, Hermione climbed the stairs to the fifth year boy's dormitory.

She had knocked at first, of course, and Dean let her in. When she entered, Dean, Seamus and Neville were all standing around, staring at her, in various states of undress. 

Trying hard not to laugh, she asked them where Ron and Harry were, and they told her that they hadn't seen either of them all morning. 

More than a little worried, now, Hermione had made her own way down to the entrance Hall, where, instead of Harry and Ron, she'd met Nearly Headless Nick, who, at her interrogation, had politely informed her that he had seen Ron that morning, and all was well. 

When she'd asked Nick, equally politely, where Ron had gone, the ghost told her that 'Young Mr. Weasley' had asked him, _very _politely, not to tell anyone the answer to that self same question.

At this, Hermione had decided to forego breakfast, and go to the one place she could be sure of talking to someone who was as miserable as she was. 

And that was why she was currently sitting alone on the edge of a basin in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, reading 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5', once more.

The teenage ghost had not yet appeared, which, Hermione now realised was probably a good thing. In fact, she thought, what am I doing here at all?

Laughing at herself slightly for letting anger get the better off her, Hermione hopped off the basin. As she did, something about one of the basins further down the line caught her eye. 

She moved over to investigate. It was the largest, and lowest basin of them all. The bottom was normal grey stone, but a few inches from the top was a ring of red, as though whatever had been in the basin had been partially washed away. 

There were spots of red too, around the top of the basin where the soap would usually stand – not that there had been any soap in this bathroom for about fifty years. 

Hermione put her finger to one of the red spots. It came away quite easily as a kind of dry powder. She sniffed it. It smelled slightly coppery, like…

"What are you doing?"

Hermione screamed and whirled round. Moaning Myrtle was floating in mid-air barely an inch from her face. 

She laughed, and swooped backwards a little. 

"Don't _do _that," said Hermione. For some reason, this only made the ghost laugh harder. 

Hermione shook her head and went back to pondering the stain on her finger. "What is this, Myrtle, do you know?" she asked. 

"That?" said Myrtle airishly. "That's blood, stupid."

"_Blood_?"

Hermione looked back in the basin. Judging by the height of the red ring in the basin, that was an awful lot of blood. 

"Who's?" 

"Those two boys of yours, of course. Didn't you know? They were in here about a week ago, and they hardly even _spoke _to me."

Hermione went as white as a sheet. _Harry?_ And _Ron?_

Myrtle smiled at her expression, and flipped upside down much in the same manner as Peeves the Poltergeist. 

"They sat there for absolutely _ages_."

.*.

Later, when everyone had gotten over the tiresome but now familiar business of 'do you realise how hurt you could have been?'s 'did you even consider the consequences?'s and 'why didn't you tell me?'s, the conversation turned to the original subject of general confusion. 

"Professor, I would still like to know who this man is, and what he is doing here," said Madam Pomfrey. 

"Me too, Albus," said McGonagall in a childish voice Harry had never heard her use before. 

"An' me," said Hagrid. The large man still had not let go of Buckbeak the hippogriff, who by this time had started to look a little squashed. 

Dumbledore sighed. 

"No way," said Sirius quickly. "Dumbledore, they'll kill me!"

"Really?" said McGonagall. "Now that is an interesting sentiment, isn't it?"

"You don't really have a choice," said Dumbledore. "You oughtn't really to have come crashing in here like that, you know."

"I don't really care all that much about that. I was worried for Remus."

"You might as well, Padfoot," said Remus, tiredly. "It's best that we have some others on our side other than the Aurors. Aurors are traditionally not trusted by the general public."

"Tell me something I don't know," said Sirius. "Oh, all right, fine. But I want your word you won't hex me as soon as I tell you."

McGonagall and Pomfrey looked sceptical. "I can assure you that this man has my utmost confidence," said Dumbledore. 

"And mine," said Remus.

"And mine," said Harry, as though his opinion actually mattered for anything.

"Oh very well," said Madam Pomfrey, and McGonagall nodded. 

With a reluctant sigh, Sirius stood up and let the hooded cloak fall from his shoulders. 

** Yes, I just felt like leaving another cliffie. I know this chapter is shorter than usual, but I also thought I'd do a thanks list – I haven't done one for a while. Just in case some of you people who do not have lives or anything better to do actually read the whole thing – yes, I did use copy and paste for FAQ's. Imagination can only stretch so far, you know.

Here be thanks:

Lil Lupin

Princess55: I am very proud indeed of my beautifully long chapter title.

Windswift: I hope you're better or you get better soon. If not – here's a nice chapter to help you once again!!

Athelas: I saw what you said to Anya about my cliffies!! Ha ha I am evil!! I am the evil queen of cliffies!! Wendy/Sirius showdown? I've worked that out apart from the finer points. I was going to do it so that Wendy would meet Sirius in the hospital wing like McGonagall and Hagrid, but then I decided it would be too much at once. I'm building up to it, don't worry. I'm not sure about Wormtail's demise. I might keep him alive just for fun, but then Sirius and Remus would probably beat me to a pulp, especially after what he just did to Remus!!

Storyspindler: I know. Tense, wasn't it?

August wynd: I always like to keep Sirius and Snape on tenterhooks when they are together – it leads to interesting dialogue.

Yoshi-fan2003

Skahducky: Ahh, when will Wendy talk to Sirius? I've worked that out apart from the finer points. I was going to do it so that Wendy would meet Sirius in the hospital wing like McGonagall and Hagrid, but then I decided it would be too much at once. I'm building up to it, don't worry.

Athenakitty: Sorry, wasn't I clear enough? I do that sometimes, there's a certain other thing I have to clear up later involving Wendy's husband. Peter stole Remus' potions, if you read the last bit of chapter 24 again you might understand it better. Maybe I should have said it straight out – but you know me, I prefer keeping people guessing up until the last minute and to work things out for themselves. Keep reading!

Ambookworm247

Evil Willow

Naomi Silver Wolf

Lady FoxFire: You think cliffie's are evil? Go back and read your own story!! Ahem, beg pardon. I'll update if you update first – sound fair?

Kateydidnt: Reactions have to wait till next chapter – I'm too tired and writer's blocked to do them now!!

Kleeber-elmo: Don't worry, school has finished so updates should occur more quickly. I can't promise mind, you know, what with moving to the other side of the world and stuff.

A-Potter-Person

Mandie/snuffles

Lorelei Wood

AllieSkittlez

Sgtharrison46

Shinystars007: yes, once again, I am overly proud of that chapter title.

Zazz: Well, if you have been reading for months it's about time you reviewed then isn't it!!! (jk) keep reading!!!

EriEka127

Grace: Gees, you are hyper. Judging from your review I know you'd enjoy Anya Wood's story as per mentioned at the top of this chapter. 

Jordan

John

Charley: of course you are looking forward to it – who isn't? I'm glad it's one of your favourites, cos if it wasn't, I'd feel guilty about dedicating this chapter to you!!

AutumnHeart

Mell: Hello faithful 1000th reviewer. (you're never going to live that down, you know.) I'm glad you like the Rent-A-Hero – it derived from something Anya Wood said to me once. Go read her story! Er, oh yeah, Snape. Well, pictures are quite different than the real thing. If Snape hadn't seen the pictures, he would have actually said whatever it was Harry dared him to say – but well done for remembering. 

Gaul

Jess

Katani Petitedra: Of course I love cliffies! They bring up the review count if nothing else!! I'm glad you don't think all the characters are too out of character. Be sure to let me know if I swerve off the line.

MadMaddie: Thank you! I feel so special!

Ranger

Skysong: I know, I love that chapter title.

Wingweaver: I know that too.

Centra-gal86: Well, you got your answer. Personally I think Ron's reaction was I little mild, but I was pressed for time. 

SillyGillie: Hmm, there's an idea. I haven't got this story up anywhere else, but I guess I might consider it.

Malfoys Chick

Princessflowerchild: oops!

Emily: AU is Alternate Universe. Basically means that I'm not writing the events of fifth year in a different way to the way it was published – and that's true enough, I can tell you!!

Hrei-siesn: thanks!

Alynna Lis Eachann

Bumblebee Bucy: **grin**

Porphyrophobic Grape  

Ascafeniel: Well, now they're getting shorter.

Tiger Lily: Now, do you really think I'm going to let on? I don't think so!

TinkerbellOfHell

Von

Illusoire

Gryffindor-girl

The Social Leper: ******groan** oh no not again!! The text message was meant to make you cry, actually **grin**. Sorry, I am so evil. There look, now you are on my list. Do you read my story? I say, I didn't know! I do have instant messenger, silly, how else would I be on your contacts list? Er, toothpaste that is disgusting I can just imagine you devouring it. **barf**. Keep reviewing so I know you are still alive. Carmina Burana was great, by the way. Barcelona in a week's time, yippee!!

Lily Skylo

PhoenixPadfoot89: are you the same PhoenixPadfoot89 who sent me all the horrible reviews? Cos if you're not, sorry, if you are, I can't believe you would have the cheek to send me a nice review as well.

Iniysa

FainOakenbringer: Do you know, I think there might be a hitch in the site. Every time someone reviews saying congrats on 1000 reviews, it comes out 10. I mean, imagine, tons of people have been congratulating me on getting ten reviews when I have 1100 and something. Weird, huh?

Saber: Good…

Darienetta Stoke: **sniff, sniff* they love me! They really love me!! He, he!

Slytherin-GIRL

Lady-of-the-Dragons

Sorry if I've missed you out – I do that occasionally. 

IMPORTANT NOTICE: As you all know, I am the least funny person in the entire universe and beyond. However, I would like to bring to your attention that the comical genius and my great friend Anya Wood (), has written a highly amusing HP fic which I strongly advise you to read. It is named Locked in the Dungeon, and will have you in stitches in a matter of seconds!!

Yes, I know I already said it. I just wanted to get my point across.

~*Laterose*~

**


	26. The Truth of Ginny and Sarah's Hearts an...

**Halloo the house! I'm baaaack! I'm tanned, I'm cool, I'm ready to rock and roll! Spain rocks!!! It's like – major cure for writers block! (not that I _ever_ get writers block _of course_, strictly hypothetically speaking).

I'm ready to understand that many of you will not be pleased with some of the contents of this chapter. One of our favourite characters, for instance, turns out to be a total coward – and ultimately a bitch – and an unlikely bid for romance crops up. 

You do, however, get all of the reactions you wanted – AND more!!! 

I did not leave such a huge cliffy this time, because as you know I am in the midst of a move and it may be some time before I can post again. I don't want that on my conscience! 

A big formal apology to PhoenixPadfoot89 (the real one). For those of you who don't know, someone is very unkindly impersonating her and leaving mean reviews in her name. If you get a review in that name and it's unsigned – it's not from her! 

**I must also warn you that someone (possibly the same person) is now also using MY name to leave flames and cruel reviews to other people's story. I will henceforth always sign in before leaving reviews.**

See you on the other side – or possibly before – depends how often I can escape from packing etc. **

Blinded by tears, Hermione ran along the corridors, her arms full of the books she hadn't been able to stuff into her bag, her hair covering her face. She wasn't sure where she was going – she wasn't sure she cared. 

Suddenly she bumped into something on her shoulder. She kept running. 

"Hey – watch where you're going, Mudblood!"

So, it was Malfoy. Hermione still didn't care – she kept going…

"Hey! Stop and face me when I'm talking to you!"

Hermione stopped, whirling around to face him. He was with a group of Slytherins, mainly large and bulky – but also, mainly stupid. 

"I wouldn't talk to me like that if I were you, Malfoy," she said, trying to keep her voice casual. "I'm a prefect."

"So? What're you going to do? Take points from Slytherin because _you _were clumsy enough to bang into _me_? Really, I expected better of you, Granger."

"No, I won't take points. But I will keep on walking, if that's all right with you?" she asked, unable to keep a little vicious sarcasm out of her voice. 

The Slytherins laughed. Hermione searched the corridors with her eyes without moving her head – there was no one there. Oh, where were Fred and George when you wanted them?

"You weren't really walking, though, were you?" sneered Malfoy. "Looked to me like you were running – that's not allowed, you know. What were you running from, Granger?"

Hermione glared at him, and turned away. 

"Don't turn your back on me!" Malfoy's voice was suddenly different – not just sneering and disgusted – but harsh… evil…

Hermione turned around again, slowly. Malfoy had his wand on her. 

"You wouldn't dare!" she said, reaching for her own wand.

"Don't do that, Granger," he said, softly. "I can curse you long before you get hold of anything – even one of those books to throw at me…"

The Slytherins all laughed again. 

"What were you running from?" Malfoy asked again. "I don't see your two lover boys. Where's Potter and Weasley, Granger? Did you have a falling out?" 

Pansy Parkinson shrieked with mirth. 

"I don't have to stand here and take this," said Hermione, though her heart was beating like a drum inside her chest. 

"Oh," said Malfoy, smiling evilly. "I think you do, Mudblood."

"Mr. Malfoy! I will not accept such language in these halls!" 

Hermione looked behind her, quickly. It was Professor Little, hurrying towards them, looking distinctly ruffled. Malfoy quickly lowered his wand.

"It's almost time for class," Little said as she came up behind Hermione. "Twenty points from Slytherin and if I hear you talk to Miss. Granger – or indeed, anyone else, like that again it will be fifty or more. Now go line up outside whatever class you have now."

"Let's go," Malfoy muttered, and moved away, back down the corridor.

"Ugly lot," Professor Little remarked when they were out of earshot. Hermione looked up at her in shock. 

"Well, they are," said Little with a smile. "I'm surprised at you, Hermione, you could have taken points off by yourself."

"He had his wand on me," Hermione admitted. 

"He _what_?"

"It's a thing between him and the three of us – me, Harry and Ron, that is…"

Suddenly Hermione remembered what had got her into all of that in the first place, and the tears came back to her eyes. She tried to hide them, but the woman saw. 

"Hermione… what's wrong?"

Unable to stop it any longer, Hermione burst into tears. Professor Little drew Hermione to her. 

"Come on," she said. "Let's go talk this out." 

~*~

Madam Pomfrey screamed. 

No one moved. 

Sirius let out a huge sigh of relief. 

"It's not over yet, Padfoot," Remus called from the bed opposite Harry's. 

"No," Sirius agreed. "But no one is trying to rip my guts out – yet."

"'Yet' being the underlined word," sneered Snape. 

"All right, Dumbledore," said McGonagall, her teeth clenched as though she was trying to restrain some fearsome instinct. "Explain."

"It's really quite simple…" Dumbledore began.

"SIMPLE?" Hagrid roared. "HE BETRAYED LILY AND JAMES! HE KILLED PETER PETTIGREW! I'LL KILL HIM!"

"Don't you DARE!" Harry yelled at him just as the half-giant lunged towards Sirius. "Hagrid – listen – Sirius has been taking care of Buckbeak all this time!"

Hagrid fell back, his eyes awash with tears – his expression as shocked as Harry had ever seen it. 

"Thanks Harry," Sirius breathed. 

"Harry – how can you – I mean… look, I know that this is maybe a bad time to tell you this… but Sirius Black betrayed your parents to Voldemort…"

Harry looked at Madam Pomfrey. "Oh come on. You didn't think I hadn't worked that out by now?"

"Harry!" said Sirius and Remus at the same time. 

"And you, Remus," choked Professor McGonagall. "How can you be a party to this?"

"No, Professor," Harry tried. "The thing is – Sirius _didn't_ betray my parents – and he _didn't _kill Pettigrew…"

"Don't be silly, Harry," said Madam Pomfrey immediately. "Now, I know you were very distressed at the end of your third year – yelling this sort of thing around no end – but haven't you got over that by now?"

"I must say, this is _incredibly _interesting," said Snape, a slimy smile pasted all over his face. "If this is what it takes to convince _three _people – imagine the reaction of the rest of the _world_…"

"Severus – you are in on this, too?" asked Professor McGonagall, her voice still hoarse. 

"I've had it briefly explained to me this summer," said Snape. This surprised Harry – who had thought he had finally managed to sort out who knew about Sirius and those who didn't. "The finer details still fascinate me, though."

"I'm glad you're amused," Sirius growled. "All right, listen up. To put it shortly – I _wasn't _James, Lily and Harry's Secret Keeper. That was the plan, anyway. Then – I came up with an alternative. I felt that having me as the Secret Keeper was way to obvious – short of Dumbledore – so I told James to switch to Peter instead. We didn't tell anyone about this plan. I reasoned that the Dark Lord was bound to come after me – sort of the 'bad guy never suspects the weakling' idea."

"You were bait," Professor McGonagall whispered. 

Sirius looked up at her, his eyes shining. "Do you know," he said. "I've never really thought about it that way."

"All righ'" said Hagrid. "So… You-Know-'Oo went after Peter then, did he?"

"Oh no, Hagrid," Remus interrupted. "Peter went to Voldemort without needing encouragement."

There was a stunned silence. "Peter?" croaked Madam Pomfrey. "No!"

"Yes," said Harry. "And it was him who tried to kill Justin in the Entrance Hall the other day."

"WHAT?" Hagrid boomed. "You mean he's still alive."

"Not until I catch up with him, he's not," Sirius growled. 

"How?" said McGonagall. "You already killed him!"

"No, Professor," said Sirius, quietly, without meeting her eyes. "I didn't. I went after him of course, after I'd seen Hagrid off, with Harry… but he was ready for me. He blew the street apart behind his back – killing all those Muggles in the process – and cut his forefinger off. All I could do then was laugh at the hopelessness of it all."

"You're going a little fast for me…" said Madam Pomfrey. "He cut his finger off… and then what?"

"He turned into a rat and ran down the sewers."

Professor McGonagall laughed. "All right," she said. "That proves it. You're out of your mind. You're implying that Peter Pettigrew was an unregistered animagus."

"He is," Sirius insisted. "And is it so hard to believe? You've just seen what Harry here can do, after all."

"What?" Hagrid interrupted. "What can 'e do?"

"I'm an Animuchos, Hagrid," Harry said, a little fed up with the interruptions by now. 

"You're a WHAT?"

"Never mind."

"Anyway…" said Sirius, eyeing Hagrid a little nervously. "Me, Peter and James became animagi in our fifth year – to help Remus out, you see."

"You too?" said McGonagall, still disbelieving. 

Sirius stood up and bowed – changing into a dog in mid-bow. 

"Oh my goodness!" Madam Pomfrey gasped. 

"I've seen you before!" said McGonagall. "You were here last year!"

"I've been here all along, Professor," said Sirius, changing back, giving her a sad look. "But often in other parts of the world."

"This is how you escaped from Azkaban, I suppose," said Madam Pomfrey. 

"Of course. Is that everything? Do you believe me now?"

"So you don't want to kill Harry?" said McGonagall, apparently still letting all this sink in. 

"Why would I want to kill him?" said Sirius – smiling for the first time. It made him look ten years younger. "He's saved my backside more times than I'd care to count."

"And Beaky?" said Hagrid, hoarsely. 

"Hermione and me went back in time the day he was meant to be killed, Hagrid," said Harry, quietly. "Sirius and Buckbeak escaped together."

Hagrid sniffed, then moved to Harry's side and gave him a trademark bone-crushing hug. Then he hugged Sirius too – as Harry and Ron exchanged sympathetic glances. 

…

Juliet Weasley was waiting for her friend Sarah to finish changing when Ginny came looking for her.

"Jules? You coming?"

"Yeah, in a minute," Juliet said moodily, as she watched Sarah pull on her robes backwards.

"Ok… we'll see you down there then."

"What's the point?" said Juliet. She was feeling crabby – and people usually avoided her when she was crabby – if they knew what was good for them. "Your friends don't like us hanging around with you anyway."

"So? I like hanging around with you. Coming?"

"God – yes already!" Juliet stomped out of the room and down the stairs, fuming.

Ginny shrugged and turned back to Sarah, who was having trouble fastening her cloak. 

"Is she always like that?" Sarah asked as Ginny came over to help. "Grumpy in the mornings?"

"Oh yes, always," Ginny said, casually. "But only until she's had breakfast. Once she's had something to eat she'll be as rowdy and as Fred and George."

"Yes," said Sarah. "I noticed that myself."

Ginny laughed, and Sarah smiled. 

Yesterday morning, when she had come into the Great Hall with Harry, was the first time Ginny had ever seen Sarah Pordell smile – and she now realised that the first year had a very pretty smile indeed.

"Ginny, "Sarah started when they were halfway down the stairs to the common room. 

"Yes?"

"Juliet – sort of told me – you had a crush on Harry Potter."

Ginny felt her cheeks going pink. 

"My cousin talks to much," she told Sarah.

"Is it true?"

Ginny avoided meeting the little girl's eyes – a full red flush took _ages_ to get out of her skin – but answered. "Well… it _was _true."

"How did you get over him?"

Ginny stopped dead. Sarah looked guiltily up at her. Ginny opened her mouth to say something – but there _were_ a few people in the common room after all. 

"Not here," she whispered, and pulled the girl out of the portrait hole, down the stairs and around the corner. When she was sure no one was listening, she faced Sarah, the two of them standing alone in the dark corridor. 

"You fancy _Harry_?" Ginny breathed.

"Well," said Sarah. "Maybe just a little." Before Ginny could answer she rushed on – "I mean – he's so _nice._ All the other boys I know are loud and annoying and bothersome – and they wouldn't think twice about doing something nice for anyone. I walked in on Harry at the worst time possible –"

"Oh?"

Sarah went pinker even than Ginny. "I walked in on him when he was changing. He's got scars everywhere – and I was even stupid enough to ask how he got them!"

"Ah," said Ginny. 

"But he wasn't mad or anything – well, not for very long… I mean, he helped me out with my Chaser moves and stuff – what kind of person does that for you after you nose into their personal life?"

After this burst of speech, Sarah stopped and looked up at Ginny, her eyes pleading for some form of help or advice. 

Ginny shook her head slowly. She knew there was only one thing she could say. 

"Listen to me Sarah. Run now, while you have the chance. Do not involve yourself too much with Harry Potter. He might be nice – but to be his friend – even to know him – puts you in danger. I realised that when Voldemort took me over in my first year."

"What?" Sarah gasped. 

"Never mind. The point is – I was chosen because Voldemort somehow knew that I had a special connection with Harry. I've warned Ron about this – subtly – countless times, but he won't listen to me. Please Sarah – listen to me. Trust me – do not get involved with Harry Potter. In the end – he might not be killed – but thousands of people around him will. I like you too much to let you be one of them."

And with that, Ginny fled down the corridors, her red hair streaming behind her, leaving behind a small, frightened, dark haired little girl whose grieving eyes seemed to sear into her very soul.

…

"All right, Hermione," Professor Little said when they were inside the classroom, and Hermione had been seated on the desk at the front so that she and her rescuer were eye to eye. "What's all this about?"

"I really don't know if I can, Professor…" Hermione tried to say through her tears. 

"Call me Wendy, dear. If someone had told me in my youth that children would one day be calling be Professor, I'd have told them to obliviate themselves on the spot. Now, what did that Malfoy twit do to make you so upset?"

"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed in shock. 

"It's Wendy, dear. And Malfoy is a twit – all the Malfoy's are. If I wasn't a teacher now I'd use stronger words. Now what did he do to you?"

"It wasn't him!" Hermione burst out. "I never thought I'd say it – but it wasn't him at all!"

"Oh?" said Wendy. "What is it then?"

"It's _Harry_ and… and _Ron_!" she sobbed. "I can't believe they could _do _this!"

"Harry and Ron?" said Wendy, surprised. "What did they do to you?"

"It's nothing they did to me," Hermione protested. "They're too sneaky for that – they've been like it for days – like they could talk to each other without speaking… or…"

"Hermione," said Wendy, calmly but firmly. "Please tell me what has happened." 

She sounded so much like Professor Dumbledore then that Hermione had to look up. "It started yesterday evening," she said obediently. "I had a fight with Ron because he had a scar on his hand and he wouldn't tell me where it was from – he said it was broken glass but it was far too cleanly cut for that…"

Hermione took a deep breath. "And then this morning I came to meet Harry and he wasn't there, so I went to breakfast by myself – and then Nick – the ghost, you know – said that Ron had told him not to tell me where him and Harry were, so I went to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom…"

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?"

"Yes – and I was awfully scared at first because there were supposed to be loads of snakes in there…"

"Snakes?"

"Harry put them there, I think – but anyway, there wasn't a single one there at all, so I sat there for a while – but then Myrtle came up from the pipes and…"

"Yes? Then what happened?" 

"She told me… she told me what happened on the first night of term…"

"What happened?"

"She… she said… she said Ron and Harry had come in really late…"

"Harry and Ron? In a girl's bathroom?"

"Well… it's kind of our special place, you know, for when we want to do anything secret – nothing against the rules of course," she added quickly, "just when we don't want any other students to see…"

"I see," said Wendy frowning. "So what else did Myrtle tell you? What did the boys do then?"

"She said… they made cuts on their hands with their wands… and then joined them together… and they were sitting there for hours over one of the basins and…"

At this point Hermione found herself unable to continue, as though the compulsion to speak that had been on her had been lifted. She dissolved into quiet tears, hugging her knees to her chest. 

Professor Little looked as though she might explode. "That stupid boy!" she exclaimed. "That idiotic, half-crazed twit! I can't believe he would do something so utterly and entirely witless!"

She stormed around the room, papers flying all over the place in her wake as she flung her arms about her head. 

After a while she seemed to calm down. She turned back to the teenager perched on her desk. "Hermione, do you know what this means?"

"It means they're Blood Brothers," Hermione said through her tears. "Blood Brothers – and without even telling _me_!"

"What else does it mean? Do you know anything of the dangers involved?"

"Dangers? Apart from losing all that blood, you mean?"

"The blood is nothing compared to the rest. A blood tie – an intentional blood tie – you know what those are, don't you?"

"When it is agreed by two or more people that a tie is to be established. This is done in advance and in preparation for what lies ahead," Hermione recited.

"Very good. Now, what you have to understand is that there are lots of different types of intentional magical ties. The blood bond between two males is the most dangerous of all…"

"Males?" Hermione demanded. 

"Of course. Have you ever heard of a blood sister?"

Hermione had to admit that she hadn't. 

"Well, there you are then. Anyway – in short – a blood tie has to be predestined. Otherwise, both subjects die."

"Die?"

"Yes. Unless the tie is predestined."

Hermione scoffed. "I don't believe in any of that nonsense."

"No, you don't believe in divination – telling the future. What you must believe in is destiny – fate – call it whatever you want. We do not know what is predestined until it happens. Ron and Harry could not have known the extent of the dangers – but evidently, since they are both still alive, they survived the tie. This bond was written in the stars since the beginning of time – hypothetically of course," she added at the disapproving look on Hermione's face. 

"Was it predestined that they wouldn't tell me about this?" Hermione demanded, still looking sceptical. 

Wendy seemed to think about that. "Well – no, I suppose something like that would have been up to the boys themselves."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "In that case – they're both going to get it – in the most painful way I can think of."

A sly smile came to Wendy's lips. "I think we can come to a mutual agreement," she said. 

**Ahh… my hands hurt from all that typing in one go! Ahh… I am going to be flamed for what I have done to Ginny!! All in all – it could be a bad week!! 

A word of explanation about Ginny. Her account of what took place in her first year is no more her fault than it is mine. The situation during that period was never fully explained to her, and she assumed on her own that the sole reason she was chosen to be the Heir of Slytherin's instrument was because she was in love with Harry. This, of course, being a total misconception, has never been corrected and she now firmly believes in it – perhaps somehow due to Molly's over-protective nature. 

Anyway (yawn) I will now go and see if it is at all possible to post (is there a time when the site is _ever _working?) and then try to get some sleep!! (yawn, yawn). Oh yeah, and I have to chat with Sarah (Pordell) to see if she's ok with what I did to her character. Even if she isn't I'll still post it but it doesn't hurt to find out, I guess. Right? Right? Of course right! 

~*Laterose*~

**

**Chapter Re-posted**


	27. Revenge is Sweet, But Pain is Deeper

**Up and at 'em, chaps!

Righto, I'm back and I've got half a new chapter all spanking bright and ready to deliver. It's not perfect but better than the original was (wince) soooooo much cheese….

For those of you who don't know, the link to my new Yahoo Group is in my bio and New memberships and Fanart are always welcome. Actually, ANY fanart would be welcome. Thanks to all those who have already joined. **

"While we're here," McGonagall said. "Is there anything else you boys want to tell us?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Was there anything we forgot?" Ron asked. 

"Everyone knows I'm a silver wizard, right?" said Harry, looking around at Dumbledore.

"I informed the staff and Remus," Dumbledore said. 

"And I told Sirius," said Remus.

"Ok then. Was there anything else, Ron?" 

"I don't think so – except, well, I'm an animagus."

"You WHAT?" Sirius exclaimed. Professor McGonagall put her head between her hands, Dumbledore smiled, Snape snarled, and Remus burst out laughing. 

"I knew it!" he said through his laughter. "I knew it was you!"

"I seem to be missing something here," said Sirius. 

"The bird," Remus laughed. "The bird that found Harry by the lake!"

"I don't see what's so funny about it," said Ron, a little indignantly.

"I don't understand any of this at all," said McGonagall. "It goes against all natural laws. You have to study for years to be an animagus – you'd have had to have started studying in your first or second year!"

"Like we did, you mean?" said Sirius, smiling. McGonagall glared at him. 

"Actually, it's quite simple, Minerva," said Remus. "Since being an Animuchos has to do with destiny, you can do it naturally after only a few days of study. 

"Which you provided, I assume," said McGonagall, glancing quickly at Sirius. 

"Guilty," said Remus. "Anyway – Ron wouldn't even have needed that training after he and Harry became Blood Brothers."

"I see," said McGonagall. 

"I had to sit through the training anyway," said Ron, in mock sullenness. "We lived through each other's lives, you see."

"You're being awfully quiet about this, Dumbledore," said Madam Pomfrey in a choked voice. "Were you a party to this?"

"I certainly knew the extent of Harry's abilities," said Dumbledore. "I authorised his training – and Mundungus Fletcher was brought here solely for Harry's purpose. I admit, however, that the Potter's have outsmarted me again. I hadn't heard of this bond between Harry and Ron."

"Well, that makes _me_ feel slightly better," said McGonagall. "But what do you mean 'again'?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I think it might take too long to explain. For now – none of us are in the dark. All that we have heard today must go no further than the seven of us."

"No fear," said Ron immediately. 

"Definitely," said Harry. 

"Fine with me," said Remus.

"Who am I going to talk to, anyway?" said Sirius.

"I suppose you're right," said McGonagall. 

"Yes," said Madam Pomfrey. 

"Not a word, Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid. 

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Now, I believe some of us have classes to attend to."

Harry began to get out of bed, then looked around at the looks people were giving him. "I'm going to Transfiguration," he said firmly. "Anyone want to argue with that?" He held up a hand, and silver fire collected around it. 

"No, Harry," said just about everyone. 

…

Hermione, strangely, acted perfectly normally for most of the day. She made no issue of the fact that they had missed breakfast, and inquired calmly as to why Harry had a bandage on his arm under his sleeve. 

When they told her, she said "Oh," and she seemed to think about this for a second before saying. "That was nice of you."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. Something was not right.

When they at last entered Wendy's classroom after two and a half hours of Binns' droning voice, they sat down at their normal places and waited for Wendy to commence the lesson. 

"Right," she said, happily. "Let's start, shall we? Harry, up here, if you please."

Harry sighed. He took the note from his pocket. "Wen – Professor – I'm not supposed to use my wand arm today."

Wendy's eyebrows raised. So did those of many of the class. The note had not been necessary in Transfiguration or History of Magic. Harry had cheated a little in the latter, channelling a spell through the arm to make his quill write by itself, as he had done the previous week. He really didn't want to spend all that time writing with his left hand. 

"Oh?"

"Yes. I've got a note from Madam Pomfrey." He was about to give the note to her but, surprisingly, Hermione raised her hand.

"It's true, Professor. Madam Pomfrey says _Harry_ isn't meant to use his arm for spells." Harry had no clue what the emphasis on his name was for.

"Yes, thank you, Hermione," said Wendy. But, even more strangely, she didn't look annoyed with her, as Harry most certainly would have been, but she had that wicked glint in her eye. "Ron then, if you please."

Ron blanched, and glanced at Harry, then looked with horror at the small woman at the front of the class.

"Come along now, boy, don't be shy," said Wendy. Some of the class laughed. Ron, red as a beetroot, rose from his seat.

~_What am I supposed to do? _~ he asked Harry. 

_I dunno! _

"Now, Ron, as we saw before, you are a blue wizard – which means you are equal to me. How do you feel about a little duel?"

Ron went, if possible, whiter than he had been before he had gone red.

_Calmly,_ Harry told him. _She's worse if she knows you're scared._

_~ Harry, she's going to kill me! ~_

_No she isn't. Now, listen. You've lived my life, right? Your blood is my blood. I'll help out. Let me in._

_~What, all the way in? ~_

_No way. She'll be able to tell. _

_~She's that good? ~_

_Yes – but you'll do ok. Besides, like she said, you're equal to her._

_~Yeah – except for the fact that she's an ex-Auror and I'm a kid. ~_

_You're a blue wizard – and my Blood Brother. That has to count for something, right?_

_~Oh, ha, ha. ~_

"Come now, Ron, I'm waiting for an answer," said Wendy in a singsong voice.

_~You sure she wasn't a Death Eater in a previous life? ~_

_Look, shut up and let me in. The door isn't wide enough._

Ron went inside his head. He shoved the mental barrier aside – he _needed_ this help!

_Watch it!_

~ _Sorry. You in? ~_

_Just a second. _

Harry sunk himself into Ron's awareness. He wiggled Ron's fingers. 

_~ Hey! Don't _do _that! ~_

_You want to win, right?_

_~Win? I don't care! I just want to stay alive!! ~_

_You worry too much._

_~No, I worry exactly the right amount. ~_

"All right then," Harry made Ron say. 

"Good-o!" exclaimed Wendy. "Everyone against the walls, please, standard procedure, you know the drill."

Obediently, the class moved so that their backs all touched the walls. With a wave of her wand, Wendy sent the tables to join them. There was now a large empty space in the centre of the room.  

~_I hope you know what you're doing…~_

So do I… 

"Now, Ron, this is a fun game – I tried it before with Harry…" Wendy waved her wand, and she was dressed in a hooded black cloak and a mask. Several people gasped. Wendy removed the mask.

"A little too much, I think," she said, throwing it away. "Your turn, now, Ron! Do you know how to do this?"

_What do you want to wear?_ Harry asked Ron. 

_~What? Harry – I hardly think this is the time…~_

"Ron, dear? Do you know how to change your clothing magically?"

Choose! Quick! Or she'll do it for you – and that's a disaster waiting to happen!!

~Oh! Right! Er… oh I don't know! Just… anything that doesn't clash with my hair! ~

Harry sighed, waved Ron's wand with his hand, and whispered a word. Ron was now dressed in sky blue Easy-Fight combat robes.

_~Very nice. ~_

I'm glad you approve.

Wendy looked a trifle disappointed. So, Harry realised, looking around, did Hermione.

"All right then, Ron," Wendy said. "We bow…"

Harry shuddered at those familiar words, but bent Ron's back into a bow.

_~Thanks, but I think I could have managed that bit myself, ~ _Ron said. 

_Oh stop complaining. Look out!_

Ron dove to one side as a beam of pinkish light went shooting past his left ear.

_Nice one_, said Harry.

_~Gee, thanks. Where the hell were you? ~_

Harry didn't have time to answer – sensing the spell coming at Ron's back, he rolled over and pointed the wand straight upwards. A blue shield burst forth – but something was different. There were patches… were they silver?

_~Er, Harry? ~_ Ron breathed. _~Is that you? ~_

_Um… no?_

_~What? ~_

_It must be you._

_~Are you kidding? It was all blue last week! ~_

_Well, I'm not doing anything. But maybe it's… you must have been like this since Monday evening._

_~I knew this would be trouble. Oh no – Harry! What if it does the same thing to you? Have I weakened your shield? ~_

_Don't be a prat. It was fine on Friday, wasn't it?_

_~Oh yeah…~_

_Want to take it down? Take them by surprise?_

_~Er… Ok… ~_

Still in Ron's body, Harry tugged down the shield, yelled "Stupefy!" at the woman staring dumbly at Ron and got to his feet. Wendy threw up a shield just in time as Ron caught his breath.

The entire class was staring at him, except Harry – or Harry's body, which was looking with mild interest at the ceiling. 

Harry swore silently. _I've got to go back, _he said. 

_~You WHAT? ~_

_LOOK at me!_

_~You can't! ~ _But Harry was already gone. After a second the boy leaning against the wall shook himself and grinned at Ron.

_~Harry! ~_ Ron yelled. _~Get back in here now! ~_

~*~

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm as Wendy's shield went down. "Harry," she hissed. "Did you _see _that? It was _silver _– that's _impossible _–"

Wendy raised her wand. "Impedimenta!"

_Shield, Ron! _Harry yelled, silently.

"Expecto Protectum!" Ron shouted, and the shield flew up again to repel Wendy's spell. The shield flickered as Wendy ducked. 

~Harry – help – can't – hold – it – ~

Ron, I can't, Hermione's got me…

~Don't – care – help – ~

Just as Harry was about to throw all caution to the winds and join Ron, three things happened at the same time. 

Ron's shield dropped.

Harry yelled and fell to his knees as a whip of fire lashed across his scar. 

He heard Ron yell too – and realized with horror that he had left the barrier between their minds open. 

Wendy was at Harry's side in a flash, the dark cloak and hood vanishing in an instant. "Harry! You ok? Ron?"

"It's ok," Harry said, starting to get up, aware of the shocked gaze of the fifth year Gryffindors. "It's over now, I think…" 

But it was far from over. Another burning shock of agony raked \Harry's forehead and he fell to the ground with a scream. 

His ears roared – all he could think about was Ron – his head was on fire – was Ron all right? – white-hot knives were being embedded in his skull – he had to close the barrier…

~*~

Ron knew that Harry had suffered this kind of pain – he'd lived it, he'd borne it – but this was the worst that his own body had ever experienced. He writhed on the floor in agony – suddenly he couldn't remember where he was… _who _he was….

~*~

~*~

They landed in what appeared to be a school corridor, but it certainly wasn't Hogwarts. 

_The door-lined walls were plastered and painted blue, and various painting, drawing and displays looked down on them from every direction. _

_Muttered voices could be heard from behind many of the yellow doors._

_"So… where are we?" Ron whispered. _

_"It's certainly different," said Harry, looking up at a mucky finger painting entitled – 'my famllie'. "Looks like a school."_

_"Well, if it is, it's a _Muggle _school," Ron said. "I know _my _first school didn't look anything like this."_

_Harry was just trying to get the idea of a wizarding primary school through his brain when he felt a wave of icy dread wash over him. _

_"Ron," he whispered. Ron turned to look at him. The realization hit them like an anvil. _

_"Oh god," said Ron. "A school – hundreds of little kids…"_

_"This is what they were talking about," Harry said, his throat dry. "That's why he tried to kill Snape – because Snape tried to stop it…"_

_"Harry –" Ron grabbed onto Harry's shoulders, forgetting that the two of them were usually insubstantial. "Harry – they're all going to die – we've got to do something!"_

_"Like what?" said Harry, angrily, pushing him away with both hands. "I've tried – remember! It doesn't work!"_

_"But they're kids!" Ron shouted. Full of anger and frustration, he pushed Harry back. Harry stumbled, and fell through the nearest door. _

_The odd thing about this was that he hadn't opened it first. _

_Ron stood for a second, breathing hard, staring at the yellow painted wood of the door, but Harry didn't come back out, so he closed his eyes resolutely and walked through the solid wood after him. _

_The first thing he did then was to trip over Harry – who was lying spread-eagled on the floor where he had fallen. "Ow!" Ron said loudly. _

_"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Professor McGonagall's voice. _

_Harry and Ron looked up in shock. It _wasn't _Professor McGonagall, though the woman standing above them looked an awful lot like her._

_ She seemed to have been interrupted during a reading session – there was a book in one of her hands, and behind her they could see a frightened look group of young children sitting in a near-perfect semi-circle. _

_Some had their hands over their ears as though awaiting an explosion. _

_They were all staring straight at them._

_Harry was first to his feet. "You can see us?" he asked incredulously, as Ron used a tiny chair to pull himself up, too. This wasn't too successful, as his hands went straight through it. _

_Luckily the furious teacher had her eyes focused on Harry. _

_"See you? She screeched. "See you? Of course I can see you! You're those vandals from Friday night, aren't you? Graffiti all over the playground – I hope you know the police are on your case! Honestly, I knew you lot were delinquents – but to come _inside _the school, in _broad daylight…!"

_"But that's impossible!" Harry said, ignoring her outburst. "How_ can _you see us?"_

_"The insolence!" the old woman exclaimed. "You suggest that because I am past my middle years, I have insubstantial eyesight? Never – in all my day – well, either that or you really are delinquents and you believe that you have control over some kind of… magic…"_

_Suddenly her look of outrage was replaced by one of concern, as she looked them up and down. She started whispering feverishly, so that her pupils couldn't hear. "You boys are from Hogwarts, aren't you?" she asked. "I recognize the uniform."_

_Harry and Ron looked down at themselves and saw that they were, as usual, indeed wearing their school robes, even though moments before Ron had been dressed differently. _

_"Yes," Harry said in answer to the old woman's question. "But how –"_

_"What's happened? Have you got a message from Minerva? What does she want me to do?"_

_Ron narrowed his eyes. "You're not related to McGonagall, are you?"_

_"I'm her sister," said the woman, clasping her hands in front of her. "My name is Ellyna." _

_Waving this information aside after a stunned second, Ron asked, "How can you see us? No one else can!"_

_Ellyna turned to look at her class, who ere all only about five or six years old, their eyes and mouths wide open as they stared. "They can," she said._

_"But no one's been able to before!" Ron practically screamed at her. "No, Ron," said Harry's deadly calm voice. "Norman."_

_"What?"_

_"Norman. The postman, remember? _He_ saw me. _And_," he said, his eyes widening with realization. "He was a Muggle." _

_Ron stared at him. _

_"_Muggles,_ Ron," Harry said, as though explaining the simplest thing in the world. "Muggles can see us – wizards can't."_

_Ron looked at Ellyna. "_She _can't be a Muggle," he said. "Not if she's McGonagall's sister."_

_"I'm a squib," Ellyna said quickly. "Now what are you two boys doing here?"_

_Ron shook his head. "look – I don't know what's going on, but there's going to be an attack here – and soon."  _

_"An attack?" Ellyna gasped._

_ "You have to get out," Ron said. _

_"How?"_

_There was a loud BANG! from somewhere below them, and sounds of screaming. _

_"Well I'm guessing it's too late to go through the front door," Harry said coolly._

_"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "What is _wrong _with you? We've got to help them!"_

_"It's too late, Ron," Harry said, his green eyes boring into Ron's brown ones. "Don't you get it? We can't help."_

_He swiped at a nearby table to prove his point. His hand went right through it. Several of the Muggle children gasped and put their hands to their mouths. Next, Harry stretched out his hand towards Ellyna – and made contact._

_Harry gasped, still clutching at the old woman's arm. "Muggles," he said again, to no one in particular. "Sight, hearing_, touch_…" _

_He looked back up at Ron, smiling, his eyes bright. "You're on!"_

~*~

Hermione screamed. So did Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. Neville whimpered and put his hands over his ears. Seamus and Dean backed up further against the desks. 

Wendy knelt with her hands on Harry's shoulders, unable to stop whatever it was that was hurting him. 

Hermione ran to Ron and tried to shake him out of whatever nightmare he was having – but both of them continued to scream. After about a minute they both lay still. 

The class breathed a sigh of relief. "That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life," said Dean. 

"Ron!" Hermione cried. "Professor, he's not waking up!"

Wendy put a hand to the side of Harry's neck and leaned over so her ear was close to his mouth. Then she crawled over on her hands and knees to do the same to Ron. 

"They're still breathing," she said. She stood up and conjured two stretchers. "Hermione, you come with me to the hospital wing. The rest of you – who knows where Professor Dumbledore's office is?"

Surprisingly, Neville put up his hand.

"Right then, Neville, fetch Professor Dumbledore and tell him what has happened He will no doubt want to join me and Hermione, so tell him where we're going, won't you? And Lavender, you get Professor McGonagall and tell her about this – in _private_. She's got a class of Slytherins right now and we don't want them getting too many details."

They stood staring at her at this blatant favouritism. She clapped her hands at them.

"Come on – spit spot! The rest of you – up to your common rooms until dinner – no taking advantage of the situation to roam the corridors!"

They fled the classroom.

~*~

Neville had been to Dumbledore' s office a total of seventeen times, which was more, though he didn't know it, than Harry Potter. 

He didn't even need a password since the gargoyle at the foot of the moving staircase had been enchanted to recognise his aura. Neville had no clue what this meant, but was grateful, because it gave him access to his Godfather whenever he wanted. 

The fact that Albus Dumbledore was Neville's Godfather didn't really mean very much, considering that the old Headmaster was Godfather to about fifty children and nearly as many adults considering the amount of people you met and befriended in an occupation and considerable lifetime like his.

Neville, however, used the knowledge as something to cling to on the nights when he had nothing else. 

_At least I have a Godfather_, he'd think over and over to himself, listening to Harry tossing and moaning in his sleep. _I'm lucky. I'm not like Harry. At least I have a Godfather who cares._

Neville had been one of the Gryffindors who had stayed to find Justin McMillan in the Great Hall. He thought back to the horrified expression on Justin's face.

_Harry went through that, and worse_, Neville thought. _Probably even more times than we know. And again and again, every night in his dreams. I dream too – about my parents – but at least I have Dumbledore, and my Great Uncle, and my Gran too, even if she is a bit…_

He suddenly realised that he'd passed the gargoyle. He jogged back. "Let me in!" he gasped. He wasn't built for running. He rested for a moment while the gargoyle slid open, his hands on his knees. 

Then he climbed onto the moving stairs and ran up them, trying not to feel giddy at the double motion. On reaching the top, he made to knock on the door, but he heard voices inside, and in spite of himself, he stopped to listen, breathing heavily.

"I still say it isn't safe." Neville knew that voice, wasn't it Remus Lupin?

"I know how you feel, Remus, but all the other strongholds are guarded – or useless – or taken. He is better staying here, with you and Harry." That was Dumbledore.

"I still can't do anything if Harry is in danger in case I betray myself to Alula." A hoarse voice Neville didn't recognise. "I'm as useless here as I am anywhere else – but Harry wants me to stay, even if I did embarrass him this morning."

Hesitantly, Neville knocked on the door.

"Who's there?" Dumbledore's voice called. His voice sounded a little startled, and Neville wondered exactly what he had interrupted. 

"It's Neville, sir. Neville Longbottom."

There was a pause, a popping noise, a click like a door shutting, and then Dumbledore said: "Come on in, Neville."

Neville entered. Dumbledore sat alone at his desk. The boy couldn't help looking around slightly to see where the other two speakers had gone. A large black dog lay by the fire, apparently asleep. 

Dumbledore looked up at him from his desk, his fingers laced together with his elbows on the wooden surface.

"Neville," he said cheerily. "You were present at the events of Friday night, I presume?"

"Er… yes, sir," said Neville, wondering where _that _question was leading, unless…

He jumped as a perfectly innocent looking cupboard sprang open and Remus Lupin staggered out. 

"Stifling," the ex-defence Professor said to no one in particular. " Good afternoon, Neville." 

"Er, yes sir," said Neville. 

"So, what brings you here?" Dumbledore asked. "Surely class can't have finished yet?" 

"No sir – Professor Little sent me – it's about Ron and Harry –"

The 'sleeping' black dog barked suddenly, making Neville jump. 

"Can't leave those boys for twelve hours without something happening," Remus said, a little less cheerfully. "Go on, Neville."

"Well – I don't really know – they just… collapsed. They were holding their foreheads like they were hurting them – but, I mean I know Harry's scar hurts him sometimes but Ron doesn't even _have _a scar, does he?"

"Where are they now, Neville?" Dumbledore asked grimly, getting up. 

"Th – the hospital wing – Professor Little couldn't wake them up…" 

"Very well," said Dumbledore. He crossed the office in four strides and made to leave the room, Lupin and the dog following close after him. 

Dumbledore stopped the dog. "I'm sorry, Snuffles," he said. "But you can't come with us. Alula will recognize you."

The dog growled, then its gaze landed on Neville. 

"Very well," Dumbledore said again, as though agreeing to a compromise in an unspoken argument. But – it was a dog! "I'll send the boy with news."

The dog seemed to be satisfied with this. It started to pace the room in such a human-like way that Neville had to stare. 

"Come, Neville," said the Headmaster, and Neville followed them out of the office, one question revolving around his head – _who was Alula?_

It wasn't until they reached the bottom of the moving staircase that he realised that he hadn't seen any sign of the hoarse-voiced man.

~*~

** Urg, I was going to do more but then I realised the update wouldn't come for ages. Reveiws always welcome! 

Laterose**


	28. Saving Sixteen and Losing Three Hundred

**Ha ha! It only took me one day to write this chapter! Warning – it is very sad. Have your tissues ready. Thanks for reviews, even if you only had one day to give them in! HA! **

The window was medium sized. It was big enough for anyone in the room to get through once fully opened, and there was a convenient drainpipe right next to it that led all the way down to the ground, three storeys below.

_"You're joking," Ron gulped._

_"Nope," said Harry. He thrust an experimental leg out of the open window. Nothing happened, but when he grabbed tightly onto the windowsill, which seemed to want to help him as he didn't fall through it, and threw his other leg over, sliding down an extra fifty centimetres, his feet hit some kind of an invisible force field._

_Harry climbed back inside the classroom. He had learned not to waste his time fighting invisible force fields – especially when he was hanging about seven metres off the ground._

_"No good," he panted, when he was back inside. "I guess I'm not meant to get that far away from Voldemort. I reckon even if I jumped I'd just stop in mid-air. You try," he said to Ron._

_White-faced, Ron copied what Harry had done. This time, however, he managed to grab onto the drainpipe, which also held his insubstantial weight,  and slide down it to the bottom. Luckily, whoever made the rules about what was solid to them and what wasn't had decided not to include the ground or the floor._

_He could hear the screaming coming from the other side of the building and was extremely glad that he was on the opposite side to the front door._

_"Ok!" he called up._

_Harry looked suggestively at Ellyna. She shook her head. "The children first," she said._

_Harry picked up the nearest child, a fair-haired little girl clutching a teddy bear and wearing a pink skirt. Not ideal attire for jumping out of windows. He whispered to the girl to stay quiet, held her out over the window, and dropped her._

_She didn't stay quiet – she screamed as she fell, but once Ron had caught her he put a reassuring hand over her mouth. She didn't look very reassured but she stood shakily, looking up at the window from which she had dropped. She looked quite proud about it._

_Harry grabbed the next one without ceremony, a dark skinned boy who looked determined not to make as much of a scene as the little girl. When Harry dropped him he went without a sound, and thanked Ron politely when he was caught safely._

_Ron felt very uneasy. Well, more like terrified. These children were a lot more breakable than Quaffles, which he was more used to catching and even then he often dropped them._

_Some of Harry's hand-eye coordination and reflexes appeared to have rubbed off since Monday, however, and he continued to catch six more in succession, setting them down safely on the pavement. Some cried, some stayed silent._

_Harry had just picked up the ninth when a loud bang was heard from the other end of the corridor, and yet another scream as a teacher looked out from the classroom to see what was happening._

_There was a cry of "Terrorists!" which was cut short with an audible curse._

_All the children were crying now, the tears of young innocents who had no clue as to what was happening around them. Harry dropped the girl quickly and picked up another. There were still at least seven – and Ellyna – left._

_Desperate, he picked up two smaller ones at once. Ron's face paled when he saw what was coming, but he caught each one one-handed and set them down._

_The door burst open. The remaining five children screamed as Death Eaters burst into the room._

_Harry was suddenly frozen in place as one of them raised his hand at their teacher, who was desperately trying to shield them with her body._

_"Avada Kedavra!" Of course. It would be Voldemort himself who walked into the room where Harry was standing, forced to watch the carnage. Ellyna fell to the ground, leaving the children exposed._

_Two of them ran for the window, pushing past Harry as he egged them on, yelling. "Go! All of you! Get out!"_

_One of them was cut down, a chubby fair-haired boy who could have been Dudley's younger brother. The other, leaner and darker, made it to the window and threw himself out._

_The Death Eaters and Voldemort laughed as he screamed, believing that he fell to his death, but did not go to the window. They cornered the remaining three – two boys and a girl, and killed them quickly._

_Apparently they had got bored with the slow effects of Cruciatus after the first two floors, and just wanted to finish the job. They screamed just before the curses stopped their hearts._

_Harry screamed too, his scar burning nearly as badly as it had in the Defence classroom, almost an age ago, it seemed now. He could hear Ron screaming, too._

_"Hide them!" he yelled through his screams, knowing that the Death Eaters could not hear him. "Hide them!"_

_Perhaps Ron heard him. Voldemort turned to the window where Harry was still frozen in place. He stood there for a minute, calculating. Then he turned away, following his Death Eaters out of the room, and Harry –_

_~*~_

Woke up.

He sat bolt upright. He took no notice of the assembled people who were in the room. He had to get back. Somehow, he had to get back.

"Harry! Are you ok?"

He was in the hospital wing, and Ron lay beside him. He wrenched himself out of bed and launched himself at Ron, who was beginning to stir.

"Oh no you don't!" he growled, and pulled Ron's right hand towards him. Their scars met.

~*~

They were huddled behind a bush in the school playground. It was cramped, and all the children were crying as the screams started to fade.

_"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "What happened?"_

_"No time!" Harry breathed. He let go of Ron's hand. Nothing happened. He breathed a sigh of relief. "We have to get out of here!"_

_"We should wait for them to leave."_

_"No. Voldemort can sense everything – he'll know these kids are here even if he can't tell we are. How many are there?"_

_"Death Eaters? How should I know?"_

_"I meant the kids."_

_"Twelve."_

_"Twelve?" Harry breathed. So little saved. So much lost. But he had to make sure they really were saved. "Is there a back way out of this playground, do you know?" he asked the assembled children._

_"There's a loose plank behind the swings," sniffed the girl with the teddy bear, who seemed, despite her shock to be the least awed by the two of them.  "I'll show you."_

_"No time to creep," said Harry. "Run!"_

_They ran. The girl pushed aside the plank and the rest followed her through onto the street. Harry and Ron walked through the fence, much to the awe of their small audience._

_"Now what?" Ron asked._

_"We have to get them safe, and get some Aurors to go to the school," said Harry, working it out in his head._

_"Any of you lot got wizard parents?" he asked the kids, without much hope._

_Surprisingly, the blonde girl with the teddy bear put up her hand. "My mum's  a witch," she said tentatively._

_"No she's not!" said one of the other girls. "I've seen her, she wears aprons with flowers on and bakes cookies. Nice ones. Witches wear all black and they're evil!"_

_"No they're not!" screamed the blonde girl. "Some witches are nice! My Daddy's a Muggle," she explained to Harry and Ron. "We live just up the road."_

_Ron looked at Harry. "What do you think?"_

_Harry looked down at the girl. "Does your mum talk to people in the fire, sometimes?"_

_"Sometimes," she agreed. "Some of the people are very odd. I've got an uncle who's a wizard and he stays over sometimes, too. He's there now."_

_Harry looked back at Ron. "It's worth a try," he said._

~*~

Harry was kneeling by Ron's bed, his eyes closed as though in some sort of trance, their hands clasped as though Ron was on a deathbed. Hermione was one the edge of her seat, chewing her fingernails avidly. The others all sat on chairs or the edges of beds, watching them.

"I don't get it," Neville was saying. "His dreams are always so horrible. Why would he want to get back into them?"

He was growing tired of the half-explanations, the irritated glances, as though everyone there would be a lot more comfortable about speaking with each other if he left.

He'd already run all the way back up to Dumbledore's office to give the dog a detailed report about what Harry had done in the five seconds he had been awake, and then run all the way back again.

What spooked him was that the dog had actually listened to him, the way a human does when you are telling them something very important. Dogs just didn't do that, Neville knew.

His great-aunt had once had a dog, a little corgie that barked whenever you got within a ten-foot radius of it. If you tried to talk to it, it would just go back to sleep, or give you a whacking great bite.

It was uncanny.__

As usual, no one answered him. Somewhere along the lines, someone had briefly explained that Harry and Ron were having a shared dream, although Neville did not understand how this was possible.

Someone had also explained that Harry was the anchor stone of this dream. If Harry woke up, then Ron would as well, so to get back into the dream and keep Ron with him, they needed to be touching – though why Harry had bothered to reach over him and grab Ron's right hand rather than his left was an unexplained concept.

"Run!" Harry suddenly yelled, and the sound echoed around the room like the bells of death.

"Harry?" squeaked Hermione again. There was no more sound from them – they just sat there, Harry in school black and Ron in sky-blue.

"I just wish I could help them," said Remus, his head in his hands. _Sirius wouldn't half be pacing if he was here,_ he thought. _That's what he does when he's worried. He paces. He's probably doing it up there, too._

Dumbledore merely sat silently, sighing occasionally but otherwise in quite a trance.

Lavender had arrived with Professor McGonagall not too long ago, and Wendy had sent Lavender back to Gryffindor tower.

Lavender hadn't looked too pleased that Neville was staying and she wasn't, but Neville had given her a wink that he hoped she had interpreted as a request to tell the rest of the class – or indeed, most of Gryffindor – as to the current situation.

Professor McGonagall looked tired. Just five minutes ago she had clutched at her breast and gasped. "It's nothing," she said when she was asked what was wrong. "It's gone."

The way she said 'It's gone' seemed to imply something else other than pain, but no one asked her. She seemed puzzled herself, and simply sat in a chair, staring into space.

It was quiet, too quiet. Neville almost wished for the screaming to start again. _What was going on?_

~*~

"But," Ron panted as they tore across the road, "If she's a witch – how can she see us?"

_"She said her mum was a witch – she never said that she was one herself," said Harry, unsure of himself. Ron had raised an interesting point though – how were they going to talk to the girl's mother if she couldn't see or hear them?_

_There was no traffic here, on this quiet suburban street in the middle of the school day. It was quite eerie._

_Harry was carrying one of the girls on his back – Ron had another. Their weight was weighing them down, and Harry's charge was so terrified that she was nearly strangling him._

_Eventually the blonde girl, whose name was Jenny, stopped outside a thatched cottage. "Here," she panted, clutching at a stitch in her side._

_"Good," squeaked another girl, practically collapsing. "Can't – run – any – more."_

_"Me – neither," wheezed one of the boys, who had confessed too late that he had asthma._

_"Come on, you lot," growled Harry. "Just another few steps 'till you're safely inside."_

_They groaned, but they followed him. To them, perhaps, he was like a P.E teacher – the last thing you wanted to do was what they told you, but for some reason you did it anyway._

_Harry and Ron lowered their charges to the floor, who seemed relieved to finally be on solid ground once again._

_Jenny knocked on the door, and a smiling, chubby woman in a flowery apron opened the door. Her face fell when she saw the eleven children surrounding her own daughter. She quite obviously could not see Harry and Ron._

_"Oh – darling – what are you doing here? Did you walk all the way from school by yourself? But it's only half-past two; school hasn't finished yet, surely? And you are all these little friends of yours, then? I recognise Rachel, and Jennifer, but dear – your birthday isn't until next week…" she was utterly bewildered. Great._

_"Jenny," said Harry quickly. "Tell her the school was attacked by Death Eaters."_

_Jenny repeated this message faithfully._

_Her mother gasped and put her hands to her mouth. "Jenny, darling…"_

_"Tell her there are two boys here that she can't see," said Harry, before the woman could burst into another never-ending sentence._

_"She can't see you?" said Jenny, confused. "How strange."_

_"Jenny, dear?" The poor lady sounded even more puzzled than before._

_"Oh – er – Harry says to tell you that him and Ron are here, but you can't see them."_

_"Death Eaters?" the woman repeated, apparently not hearing her daughter. "Where are they?"_

_"At the school," said Jenny._

_"They took over!" volunteered the dark-skinned boy._

_"But we got away," said Jenny, glaring at him._

_"Come in," said her mother quickly. "Come in, all of you."_

_"Jenny," Harry said, as the woman closed the door behind them.  "Is your Dad at home?"_

_"No," said Jenny, sounding surprised. "He works all day."_

_Harry swore. He would have to make do with Jenny as his interpreter._

_"What's your mum's name?" he asked._

_"Emma Warnes."_

_"All right, listen up," he said to her. "I want you to repeat everything I say to your mum, word for word, ok?"_

_"Ok," she said._

_"Jenny," sighed Mrs. Warnes, slumping on an armchair. "Who are you talking to?"_

_Ron got all the other children to sit down while Harry said, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Warnes. My name is Harry Potter. You can't see me, so I am speaking through Jenny."_

_Jenny faithfully repeated this._

_Emma Warnes' eyes widened. "Harry Potter? Where are you?" she asked, looking around on the wrong side of the room._

_"Show her where Harry is, Jenny," said Ron. Jenny pointed. Her mother looked up._

_"All right," she said, breathing heavily. "What's happened?"_

_"Just now, Lord Voldemort attacked the school just down the road," said Harry, with Jenny repeating – although she had trouble pronouncing his name._

_"You-Know-Who?" Emma gasped, clutching at her heart. "But – he's –"_

_"Back," Harry said quickly. "I saw him come back last year. He's been attacking everywhere for the last few months. I need you to send word to the ministry as soon as possible, and get some Aurors up here to do what they can before they all leave. We may still be able to save some of the students."_

_The woman nodded._

_"I wouldn't mention his name though," said Harry, as an afterthought. "Just tell them there's a Death Eater attack. I'm pretty sure they'll all come running. They'll probably want to question the children so I'd contact their families and tell them where they are if possible."_

_"My god," said the Mrs. Warnes. "All the children – my son! I've got a son at that school! What if –"_

_"The Aurors will take care of it," said Harry, a lot less sure than he sounded. "Do what you can, please."_

_And with that, he and Ron left. The children called out goodbyes as they walked through the walls. Once outside, they could see the school – better than before for one reason. It was on fire._

_They didn't need to discuss it – they ran straight for it._

_Death Eaters stood in the playground, laughing as they shot final burning charms at the papers and wooden desks from outside the window. On the top floor, children still screamed._

_Ignoring the Death Eaters – there was nothing they could do about that anymore – they ran through the walls of the building and reached the stairs. They couldn't even feel the heat – the fire had no effect on them._

_When they reached the fourth floor, it took them precious minutes to find the rooms that still had people in them. They walked through the doors to find bodies, smouldering or consumed with flames – tiny bodies._

_Only the last room held anyone still alive. There were six children by the window, and when Harry and Ron materialised through the solid wood of the door, they only screamed even louder._

_"You have to get out!" Harry yelled. "Out the window!"_

_The noise of the fire made it almost impossible for them to hear – but they seemed to gather that the boys were there to help them. They ran across the room, clinging to their clothes and sobbing._

_"No!" shouted Ron, but there was nothing he could do to make them understand. They were too young, too frightened._

_Harry was already hoisting one onto his back and another onto his shoulders._

_"Are you mad?" Ron yelled through the smoke. "You'll fall!"_

_"I won't die. They will anyway," Harry yelled back. "Help me!"_

_Ghost-tears ran down Ron's cheeks as he hoisted another child onto Harry's back. Harry sagged under the weight, but he somehow managed to do the same for Ron, so that they were each burdened with three children._

_"I'll go first," said Harry, but Ron shook his head and made his way over to the window. One leg, two legs. Grab. Slide._

_Something below yelled a curse. One of the children on his back fell with a scream. The other two shrieked and held on tighter. Ron closed his ears to the thud she made when she hit the earth._

_Harry was above him. Ron preyed that the pipe would take both their weights._

_Harry looked down, and his head spun. Focus. He heard the scream of one of Ron's children, he gritted his teeth and yelled at his own to hold on tight._

_The Death Eaters below them were shouting – they obviously couldn't work out how six - five children were floating in mid-air, apparently clinging to nothing but still afloat._

_Scream. The weight on Harry's back lightened considerably, and Ron ducked as the boy went hurtling past him._

_"Mummy!" shrieked the girl on his shoulders. Her arms obscured his eyes, and he slipped. All three of them screamed as he plummeted – but somehow he got a hold of the pipe again, his feet inches from Ron's head._

_BANG!_

_The Aurors had arrived. Harry could hear the pop! pop! pop! of apparition and disapparition all over the playground as the Death Eaters left._

_"Stay where you are!" Harry yelled to Ron, who didn't need telling twice. "Hold on!" he yelled to the crying children on his back._

_After only minutes, there was silence._

_~*~_

Harry had screamed again. Ron had tears rolling down his cheeks. They were both breathing heavily as though running.

Hermione watched them, her fingers still in her mouth. What had she done? It had been her stupid idea – to get Harry and Ron into a duel with Wendy and then whisper to the class to start throwing curses whenever their back was turned.

At the time she'd thought it would be fun – even though Harry couldn't use his arm and only Ron could fight. Oh well, she had thought. She could get her revenge on Harry another time. But this…

It had to have something to do with their Blood Brother bond, she knew, from looking at Wendy and receiving an answering nod. They'd talked about it – all of them – when Neville had gone upstairs on some unnamed errand. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Remus and Pomfrey all knew – they had since this morning. She couldn't help feeling a little guilty. Perhaps Harry and Ron had decided to tell her tonight, after lessons? She'd never forgive herself it that was the case.

"Stay where you are!" Harry yelled. "Hold on!" His eyes were tight shut, his knuckles white where they touched Ron's.

_Please_, Hermione thought. _Please let them come through this safely._

_~*~_

_A voice below called – "You up there! Come down! It's all safe!"_

_"Go on!" Harry hissed, his fingers slipping on the pipe._

_"Can we trust them?"_

_"Go!"_

_Ron went. Together they slid down the drainpipe, the children sobbing into their robes. When they landed, they turned to face the Aurors. There were at least thirty of them. Harry thought he even recognised a few, but could not recall any names._

_They were staring, wands poised, at the four children hanging in midair._

_"Come on," Harry whispered. "Get down."_

_Ron also relieved himself of his charges. His stomach was ready to turn inside out. He tried not to look at the mangled bodies of the boy and the girl who had fallen._

_"Let's go," Harry sighed, surveying the Aurors with caution. "We can't do anything more."_

_He reached out his right hand, and Ron took it, turning to take a final look at the girl he had failed._

_~*~_

They stirred. They awoke.

Harry let go of Ron's hand and slumped against the bed. The first thing Ron did was to be violently sick in the basin on the bedside table. He counted himself lucky to have made it that far.

Hermione made for Ron – Remus ran to Harry. He lifted him up easily and put him back on the bed, where he sat upright, tears flowing silently from his eyes.

"How – can you?" Ron stammered, after Madam Pomfrey had removed the basin. "How – can you – stand it? Most horrible thing…"

Harry didn't answer, he pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them.

"Ron?" Hermione asked. Ron looked up at her as though she was from a different planet.

"Hermione?" After a brief second, Hermione hugged him. Ron burst into tears over her shoulder and held her tightly.

"So – sorry –" he said between sobs.  "Sorry I didn't – tell you…"

Hermione's heart broke.

"That's ok," she said, pulling herself onto the bed beside him.

"So many… couldn't save them… that girl… I saw her…"

Remus watched Harry helplessly, glancing at Madam Pomfrey who came over and touched his arm.

"I'm fine!" he growled, pulling away from her. He half-pushed, half-threw himself off the bed and went to Ron.

"How can you stand it?" Ron asked him, almost accusingly, letting go of Hermione to meet his eyes. "How? I saw that girl – I saw her, Harry! Just lying there, all broken…"

"I lost one too," Harry whispered, barely audible to everyone in the room. The look in Ron's eyes scared him.

"It was the most – horrible thing – I've ever seen in my life," Ron gasped. "And all the children – trapped inside… can't believe…"

Harry looked away. He'd seen them too. Piles of them, engulfed in fire.

"Jenny's brother!" Ron suddenly screamed. "Emma's son! There's no way he could have survived!"

"I know," said Harry, willing him to stop talking. Remus was staring at them in horror – so was Neville.

Ron gave himself up to Hermione again. Harry stood up, and leant against the bedpost. Sixteen. They'd saved sixteen. Out of a school of maybe hundreds.

Professor McGonagall was there. Harry stared at her. Ellyna. They couldn't save Ellyna.

Professor Dumbledore stood up. "Harry?"

"A school," Harry managed to say. "A Muggle primary school."

There was silence except for Ron's gasps of sorrow. Professor McGonagall met his eyes, and something passed between them. She bowed her head.

"Professor – I –" Harry started. "I'm sorry – we tried…"

"Poor Ellyna," Ron sobbed. "She could have got out – they never had a chance…"

"I… I don't understand…" said Neville. Harry looked at him. What was he doing here? How much did he know? He turned back to Dumbledore.

"_He_ was there," he told the Headmaster. "In person. They killed as many as they could and then set the place on fire. We saved as many as we could –"

"How?"

"Muggles can see us. Muggles and squibs. We got twelve out at the start and four more through the fire. Aurors sorted the Death Eaters out but I don't think there were any casualties."

Dumbledore bowed his head.

"Sir –" he had to know. He just had to. If he had been there – "Was Professor Snape… I mean…"

"Professor Snape has been in the castle all afternoon," Dumbledore informed him softly.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. He could never have looked at Snape again if he knew that he had been part of the raid – even if – apparently, he had fought against it at the start.

Wendy came forward and hugged him. He couldn't help making the front of her robes a little wet.

"Dumbledore!" the voice came from the fireplace, where another old man's head was resting.

"Yes, Barny?" said Dumbledore, with the tone of a man who knows what is coming.

"There's been another attack I'm afraid. A children's primary school in Kent. Over three hundred killed. Look, I wouldn't have bothered you, you'd have found out anyway, only the woman who reported the attack was blabbering some nonsense about Harry Potter in her living room, and there were some funny goings on afterwards as well. I don't suppose you'd be able to shed some light on the situation?"

"Ah. What sort of goings-on?"

"Well, the bastards set the place on fire, but when we arrived there were four kids hanging in mid-air just opposite a drainpipe, and two more dead on the ground underneath them, like they'd fallen. It looked like they were holding onto something, and when we told them to come down they moved like something invisible was carrying them down that drainpipe. Now I'm a wizard – and I still found that disturbing. Whatever it was disappeared once the kiddies were safe on the ground. What do you think?"

"Have you got Alastor and Mundy over there?"

"Of course."

"Very well. I'll be with you in five minutes."

The head disappeared.

Everyone turned to stare at Harry and Ron. Harry and Ron stared at each other.

"Three hundred?" Ron whispered. It sounded a lot more real now that they had a number.

Harry sat down on his bed, hard. "Three hundred. Sixteen out of three hundred."

"And all the teachers."

"Yes."

"You climbed down a drainpipe outside a burning building?" Hermione squeaked.

"I wasn't afraid of the fire," said Ron. "The fire couldn't hurt me."

"I want words with the man who built that drainpipe though," said Harry, still in utter shock. "Drainpipes are for climbing down. There weren't even any handholds."

They didn't even notice when Madam Pomfrey force-fed them Dreamless Sleep potion.

Wendy caught Harry as he collapsed under its influence, and arranged him comfortably on the bed.

"I will see you all later," said Dumbledore, hastening towards the door. Neville – up to my office if you please. Then you may return to your common room." He left.

"Well," said Wendy, looking around at Poppy, Minerva, Remus and Hermione. "That's it then, isn't it?"

*****

** Bit of a sad chapter, that one. Hum de hum. Two chapters in as many days! Aren't you proud of me? **grin**

Laterose **__


	29. Portraits of Shame

** Ok, ok! I have been pelted with reviews asking for updates. Just because I managed to update two nights in a row for the first time since my first fic ended doesn't mean I've managed to mislay my life!

Oh well, it's not like I had anything important to do anyway. 

This is only a very short chapter to update you on what is going on in the story. If you ever loose track you don't really need to read it from the beginning – you can return to this chapter and sort it out from there.

I'm also going to post a thanks list for chapter 28.

IMPORTANT NOTICE: Ok, I finally got around to updating my bio, and you should really read it – especially those of you who have asked to be on my mailing list, which, as you might have guessed, is no longer functioning. See my bio for notes on how to get notified when I update. 

Also, I've left a link to an RPG just starting in a Yahoo group called Turning of the Times. They are in need of characters and it would be great if someone could help out. Thanks. (Please note – I'm playing Harry!)

Well, I think that's it, except for school starts in a day and that means less updates – sorry, people! Please don't harass me for updates, but reviews and constructive views and criticism is always welcome. Please tell me which part of the story you are enjoying most. **

The black owl soared over the Quidditch pitch, barely visible except when it crossed the rays of moonlight beaming down on the grounds. 

It was nearly the end of October. After the twisted events of Sunday evening, life had continued almost as normal, except that Harry had resumed his lessons with Wendy – and without hesitation had asked if Ron could come along too. 

Ron needed the lessons more than Harry did, but he _had _been rather upset when Harry had told him what he'd done. "That woman's a maniac," he'd said. "Didn't you hear what Hermione said? They tried to do us in, in front of the whole class!"

But, he had reluctantly agreed to come along. He complained constantly about his bruises and his aching brain but didn't really put any heart into the complaints. Even Harry was starting to enjoy the duels that he and Ron set up between each other, especially when Wendy wasn't there. 

"Is all this extra practise necessary?" Ron had asked after they'd snuck out into an empty classroom in the dead of night for the fifth night in a row one week in October. Harry hadn't answered. He knew Ron enjoyed flying just as he enjoyed running. Getting back and fourth from their favourite duelling spots was nearly as fun as the duels themselves. 

There had been a meeting at some point between everyone who now knew about Harry and Ron's blood bond, and their animagus abilities, including Hermione and Neville. Harry couldn't understand how Ron had actually seemed to _enjoy _it, chattering on and on about flying and talking without speaking. 

Harry himself had been called upon to perform, which he'd done, to some extent. My Lord the cat, Quill the owl, Pitch the snake, Jet-Wing the falcon, Night-mane the lion, Dark-claw the mouse (briefly) and even Web the frog had all made reappearances to endless rounds of applause. 

Harry had blushed furiously once back in his own form, but Professor McGonagall had tears in her eyes and Hagrid was talking animatedly about having Harry appear in Care of Magical Creatures. 

Hermione, who hadn't known about Harry's animals before the meeting, gave both boys a thorough talking-to afterwards, which they sat through patiently. They felt they deserved it somewhat – or at least Ron did. 

Ron and Hermione, after Sunday night, had progressed their relationship considerably. It was now common knowledge to all of the school that were interested that the two were now 'going out'. 

After Ron had accidentally let the barrier to Harry's mind slip during one of their more intimate sessions, Harry insisted that Ron let him know before they got started so that he could get as far away as possible. 

Harry and Ron had no more dream visions – only nightmares about the school they had failed to save. 

Dumbledore had somehow managed to explain the situation to Barnaby Dunst, the man who had called through the fire, and whom, they had found out afterwards, was one of the three they had not yet met who knew about Sirius' innocence. 

Mrs. Warnes had been in touch. Dumbledore had called Harry and Ron up to his office to face a woman awash with tears wanting to thank them for saving her Jenny – even if they hadn't been able to save her Benjamin. 

Harry had closed his mind to the fact that Benjamin just might have been the boy that had fallen off his back while he and Ron were climbing down the wall of the building. He couldn't bear to think that. 

Neville was treating the whole situation with a kind of numb indifference. He had demanded, while at the meeting, to be told why he had been talking to a dog for ten minutes up in Dumbledore's study. 

After a brief nod of assent from both Remus and Harry, Dumbledore had taken him aside to tell him. Wendy had acted suspicious, but had accepted Remus' story that the dog in question was an enchanted young wizard in Dumbledore's care until a cure could be found. 

Harry thought the story was rather good – and wondered how many lies Remus Lupin had told during his days at Hogwarts. Since he'd been one of the Marauders – he guessed the number was in its hundreds. 

Sirius himself was, of course, hiding out in rooms ajoined to Remus' by a back door unseen by anyone unless they knew where it was. Harry had been to see him as soon as he knew this, and had been accosted with a bone-breaking hug alike to Hagrid's, and a solomn reprimand that he was never to scare his Godfather like that again. Harry only half-promised. 

Zedik and Sleeve, Harry's snake guardians, had been nothing but apologetic when they next met after Sunday evening, if they weren't devastated. 

Since Harry had left the dormitory in the middle of the night to find Remus in the forbidden Forest, they had not been with Harry at the time of his and Ron's vision, when they could have warned him of it. 

Harry had spent hours trying to explain to them that it wasn't their fault, until he gave up and accepted their constant watch from now on. When he had asked where all the other snakes had got to during the night, Sleeve explained that they had gone to spy on Voldemort as double agents. 

Zedik admitted that a lot of them would probably get killed in the attempt, but not so many that Voldemort would suspect that his whole snake army was a living vendetta against him. 

Pleased with the knowledge that he would be warned perhaps days in advance if another attack was to come, Harry had tried to continue his school life as normally as possible, trying to fit in extra duelling and lessons with Wendy around Quidditch practice and homework. 

With the snakes as allies, the Light side slowly began to get the upper hand, as it were. Harry informed Dumbledore of the incoming attacks, and Dumbledore warned the Ministry's reluctant Minister, who set up Auror stations all around the area in danger, and evacuated the inhabitants temporarily. 

As a result, Death Eater attacks were extinguished before they had even begun.

To Harry's knowledge, no one ever questioned the source of Dumbledore's information, or if they did, Dumbledore evaded their questions. 

Harry was never approached by any member of the Ministry or Aurors – although Mundungus Fletcher dropped by from time to time, as did Barnaby Dunst, the Head Auror. 

Harry watched Dunst from a distance, wondering why Sirius and Remus had chosen to trust this man with the knowledge that Sirius was innocent. And if he was Head Auror – how would he be able to stop Sirius being put back in Azkaban if he was caught? He'd loose his job, surely?

Harry didn't think about it. He had too much on his mind – and besides it wasn't really any of his business. He let it go. 

Hedwig's three chicks were by now quite large and ready to leave their mother. Harry had kept the snowy white one, the one he had named Mouxaile – Softwing. The other two, as he had promised, had gone to Remus and Wendy, and had been named Streak and Tumble in their turn.

It was now seven weeks since he had left the Dursleys. No one ever even mentioned them. Harry didn't try to find out what had happened to them – he got the feeling he wouldn't want to know. 

In fact, Harry hadn't even thought about them until this morning. 

When the pictures had finally come out. 

Hermione had split milk all over the front page of the Daily Prophet, and Harry had snatched it from her before she even had a chance to try and hide it. 

It was almost exactly the same as the article in the Muggle newspaper, with phrases like 'Boy-Who-Lived sourly mistreated' and 'Dumbledore's grave mistake finally comes to a head' thrown in. The stationary pictures looked odd in the Daily Prophet. 

Harry stared at them – he couldn't help it. 

He'd been half conscious when they'd taken those photos! He couldn't even remember his arm being put in that sling, let alone having been 'brave enough to resist' it. 

The whole school had whispered behind his back for the entire day – except Sarah Pordell, who gave him an encouraging, if wistful, smile. She didn't need the pictures. She'd seen the reality. 

Wendy had also understood. After her class, she'd taken him aside and promised to fulfil the promise she'd made at the beginning of the year. She was going to teach him hand fighting. 

"Potter! Hey Potter! Is it true? You let yourself get beaten up by a bunch of Muggles? He survived a killing curse and he can't even best Muggles? Do you know what? I don't think he's the genuine article!"

Harry ignored Malfoy. 

Today had been his first lesson. With Ron and Wendy watching in awe (and fear) he'd taken out his frustration on the dummies and sandbags she'd conjured until his arms ached and his fists were sore. 

Ron had even joined in after a while, punching out the grief for the girl who had fallen from his back. He was in tears by the end, but that was nothing to the state that Harry was now in.

Ron and Hermione sat at the window in Gryffindor common room. "I'm going to sort them out," Hermione said for the hundredth time. "They don't need Rita Skeeter – none of them have any respect for people's privacies – especially Harry!"

The black shape in the sky outside flew in circles, gaining height until it was barely a speck, then plummeting down in a gracious dive. Unsatisfied, it paused in mid-air and changed size. Harry had transformed into Jet-Wing. 

Blinded now by the dark he flew in circles once more, renting his anger on the innocent air. 

"You want to join him, don't you?" she said, softly. 

Ron looked down at her smiling face. "Go on," she said. 

Ron kissed her softly on the lips, stood back, and made the change into the magnificent Red and Gold Eagle they had named – or rather, Hermione had named – Aureus Plumeus, or Golden Feathers. 

"I love it when you do that," Hermione whispered. The Eagle flew around her head, stirring up her hair with its feathers. Then it soared off into the night. 

Hermione watched the two graceful birds as they embarked on a graceful dance among the stars, joined after a while by two white dots that were Hedwig and Mouxaile. She might not have thought it so graceful had she heard the first line of their conversation. 

~_It's bloody cold out here, don't you think? ~_

_'Would you rather freeze to death…?'_

** Well, it wasn't THAT short, four and half pages. Ok, that is kind of short. Oh well, I don't really have time for much else right now. 

Here Be Thanks:

Mella deRanged: I've decided to make them more ultra-real-visions than 

dreams. I wanted Harry and Ron to be able to intercede – makes things far more interesting.

LunaWolf

Ella8: Yes, Ellyna was a spur of the moment character. After creating her 

so suddenly I decided to kill her off in the same way. Sad, but necessary. She was interesting to characterise, though.

Dan: I'm sorry that you felt Hermione was out of character. The only 

reason I can give you as to why she was offended that Harry and Ron kept secrets from her, was that her feelings for Ron were growing and she felt that neither of them had the right to keep things from her while talking about it behind her back – unlike when she kept secrets and kept them to herself. The mind of a teenage girl – if you are male then I cannot explain it to you! As for Wendy – she's a weird and wonderful character and I normally let her do what she wants. As to the Gryffindors – any chance to join in and I think they'd jump at it. But that's just what I think. Thanks for reviewing!

Arow: Good point. I'd nearly forgotten about my favourite phrase – there 

were so many places I could have put it! Oh well, I can't be bothered to go back and put them in now. I'll slip it in during the next chapters – where the mystery will come to light! Muahahahahah!

Leah

Anne: Hey – I'm fourteen! Thanks, though. By the way Anne is my middle 

name. Just a useless piece of information at your disposal.

Thom Verdace

Almost Infamous: Wow, on your birthday? Cool!!! I wish my favourite 

authors would update on my birthday. 

Naomi SilverWolf

Katani Petitedra: Hello Kit the wonder child! Can't wait to see your amazing 

works!

chaser1

two2feet

skahducky

Indra

ParanoiaIn2005: Glad you liked it!

The Social Leper: Actually there aren't better things to do except RP, 

which I've taken a shine too lately. Can't wait to talk to u tomorrow!

princess55: Oh lord. I don't even want to think about it – yes, they'll have to 

meet soon – but how, I'm not sure. I did have a brilliant plan but it's a bit, well, rubbish. I'll have to work on that a bit more.

magnetic-starfish

LoonyLoopyLisa

Zahri Seb Melitor: Completely moved in but missing some items of 

furniture that are on a boat somewhere. See princess55. 

Kaizer Knuckz

Lady-of-the-Dragons: Actually over three hundred reasons. 

SillyGillie: My sister has to go through step by step instructions just to work 

out how to turn on the computer. I don't think I'm in danger. Thanks for the long review! **hugs review** I LOOOOVE long reviews!

Liberty Belleview

Charley4

Bumblebee Bucy: Oops, I think I failed there. It's a depressing time, really. (I can't help it, it's freezing here!)

NasserPotter: I don't want Ron to be as powerful as Harry. You're right, 

that would suck. I'm just giving him a bit more influence as he's one of my favourite characters. Harry's gonna get all the glory in the end, don't worry.

Phoemix marauder

Shadow Adams

Harmoni: See important notice above the chapter.

Athenakitty: Mouxaile is my brainchild and I am totally in love with her. I 

hope to bring her more vividly into forthcoming chapters.

Adept: **fans herself, dizzy from flattery**

Alynna Lis Eachann

Yolande: Sorry this is such a short chapter. I'll try and update longer ones 

when I have time.

Jordan

Sunkyssed

azntgr01

Angelis1

LILRKCHK

Mronimusha

Tayce

EriEka127: See Arow

ccs rox

Dumbledore

Delta T

Stupidx: **sheepish grin**

Contraveritas

Charma1219

Phew, that took a while! Thanks for all those reviews! Hope to see you at the next update!!

~*Laterose*~

**


	30. The World Isn't Such a Dark Place

**Well, more people enjoyed that than I'd expected! 

This chapter was so fun to write! To all fellow authors: DO NOT skip Quidditch matches! They are incredibly fun to write!!!!

I should probably warn you lot that the end is coming. Soon. Maybe a couple more chapters. Does that upset you? I've been writing this story for months now… it makes me feel a bit empty, but fear not! We're not there yet! Hold onto your hats people – it's the Quidditch season! **

The cold woke him quicker than anything else. He shivered, and dressed in the blink of an eye with a wave of his hand. 

He was glad that things like dressing were now remarkably easy, because certain other things in his life certainly were not. 

Why did that blasted article have to come out the week before the first Quidditch match of the season? He shook himself and rolled gently out of bed, whereupon two long black shapes attached themselves to his neck and wrist. 

_"Good morning," _Zedik hissed. 

_"Yeah," _said Harry absent-mindedly. _"You too. Are you coming to practise today?"_

_"Of course," _Sleeve insisted. 

Moments later, Jet-Wing the black falcon landed on the Quidditch pitch outside the changing rooms. It was five o'clock in the morning, and still quite dark, although the winter sun was rising earlier and earlier each day, for which Harry was decidedly grateful.

He grabbed his Firebolt and took off. An hour later, he noticed a speck coming towards him from the castle. He floated lazily, watching it. 

~_Do you spend ANY part of your life with your feet on the ground? ~_

"Nah"_, _Harry replied, as Aureus Plumeus landed on the back of his broom. "Fancy a race?"

~_Hardly. ~_

Harry laughed and sped off, bowling Ron into midair as he dived. 

~ _You're on! ~_

…

They waltzed into breakfast at about half eight, Ron bent over with laughter at the rude comment Harry had just made about Professor Trelawny. 

Harry ignored the stares of the school and made his way over to Gryffindor table. 

"Potter! Guess what! You're in the paper _again_!" shrieked Malfoy as they passed.

Harry and Ron slid into place beside Hermione, with Dean, Seamus and Neville watching from the opposite side of the table. Ron was no longer laughing.

"I'm not, am I?" Harry asked Hermione. She pushed the paper towards him. 

It was not front-page news. Harry leafed through it until he found what he was looking for – a small square of writing tacked onto the end of a side column. 

'Boy-Who-Lived under Special Notice – 

_Due to the events recently come to light concerning what took place at the home of Mr and Mrs Dursley in July, Harry Potter, 15, is to be placed on the 'endangered' list of Wizarding Social Services until the aforementioned Dursley family is convicted. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School, has been consulted on this matter.'_

Harry passed the paper over to Ron, feeling sick. He pushed the food Hermione offered him away. 

"Endangered?" Ron exclaimed. "They make you sound like some rare species of bear, or something! Hang on – the Dursleys weren't convicted?"

"Did you even read that article yesterday?" Dean asked. 

"Why should we?" Hermione replied casually, taking back the paper and ripping the author's name slowly into shreds. "It's all rubbish."

"They got bailed out," said Seamus through a mouthful of mushrooms. "Margarine Something."

"Marge," Harry corrected, lowering his head onto his arms. How could things possibly get any worse? 

He realised too late that he'd jinxed it. 

Harry had been receiving hate mail of varying degrees of danger every other day for two months, but most had been destroyed by a member of the faculty before it could do too much damage. 

This time, the brown owl flew right into the great hall, circling. Wendy stood up and fired at it – it disappeared. The black envelope it was carrying fell to the floor, untouched. 

Then it exploded. 

The entire school, knowing from experience the best course of action, ducked simultaneously under the tables. Harry stayed where he was, although Ron tugged at his robes desperately. 

"What do you want now?" he yelled. 

"POTTER…" said the cold voice from the smoke. 

"What?"

"POTTER, I'M SURPRISED AT YOU. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THIS BEFORE?"

"Go away." Actually, Harry said something a lot ruder. 

"THESE MUGGLES – WHAT ARE THEIR NAMES? OH WELL. ANYWAY, I WAS GOING TO ASK YOU – WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT, HARRY?"

This threw Harry slightly off guard. "Sorry?"

"I MEAN YOU AND I BOTH KNOW YOU'RE BETTER THAN THAT. NOT A LOT BETTER, OF COURSE, BUT SURELY YOU CAN BEAT A MUGGLE?"

Harry's hands closed into fists. I won't do it, he told himself. It's not real. I won't rise…

"OR PERHAPS NOT. YOU DO RATHER PREFER TO HIDE RATHER THAN SEEK, DON'T YOU? I REMEMBER THE LAST TIME WE MET…"

No, Harry thought. Not this time. Malfoy will tell him everything I do. I'm not going to do anything stupid, not this time.

"It's not working, Tom!" he yelled. "You're only wasting your time."

"OH, BY THE WAY. I KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO FOUND THE AURORS WHEN I TOOK THAT MUGGLE SCHOOL. WHAT A SHAME YOU ONLY MANAGED TO SAVE SO LITTLE. QUITE A FEW OF THEM DIED, YOU KNOW, SO I SUPPOSE WE CAN BLAME THAT ON YOU, AS WELL. DO YOU REMEMBER RAINBOW? SWEET LITTLE RAINBOW DARLING. SHE DIED TOO, DO YOU REMEMBER? IT WAS VERY INTERESTING, THE LOOK ON HER FACE. I WISH YOU COULD HAVE BEEN THERE TO SEE IT… BY THE WAY, HARRY, I'M COMING FOR YOU. I'LL COME FOR YOU SOON, AND THEN YOU'LL REGRET THE DAY YOU DECIDED TO MESS WITH MY PLANS. YOU'RE LIKE A GNAT IN MY EAR, HARRY. BUT YOU'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO SAVE THEM ALL."

The voice died away, and people tentatively began to poke their heads out from under the table. The teachers still sat calmly at the head table. 

Harry spat on the remains of the smoking envelope. "Oh, stop it, "he said, addressing the entire student body who were looking at him in awe and fear. "Stop being afraid. He'll get you all if you're afraid."

"Is it true?" a burly Slytherin called out. "Did you stop the attack on the school?" 

"N one stopped that attack!" yelled a new voice. It was Ron, his fac red not from embarrassment but from anger. "it happened!" 

Hermione dragged hi back down onto the bench

"_Are you all right, Harry?" _Sleeve asked from his position around Harry's neck. 

"_Fine_," said Harry, causing everyone who hadn't been watching him in the first place to swerve his or her gaze. "_Could you check the envelope, please?"_

Sleeve slid off his neck amid gasps of horror, and began sniffing at the ashes with his forked tongue. 

Harry left him there and resumed his breakfast, although he wasn't really hungry. "Maintain a straight face," he told himself. 

Sleeve reported that the envelope had been marked by one of his brothers, and as a result he could tell that it did indeed come from Devon. Harry had discovered this marking system earlier on in the month, and had confirmed his fears that Voldemort's headquarters were now an old manor house in Devon. 

After reporting his news to Dumbledore, the same news for the past week but slightly useful all the same, he made his way down to Care of Magical Creatures with Ron and Hermione. 

&&&&&&&&&&&

"Sirius, you only just saw him yesterday."

"I know."

"You can't expect him to come down here everyday, what with Quidditch going on at the moment."

"I know. I just feel like I hardly know him. Before I got here we'd only met three or so times."

"He knows you through your letters."

"You keep saying that. It's really quite irritating."

The gargoyle creaked open. Sirius ducked behind a sofa. "It's only me, Sirius!"

"Harry!"

"Did you think I wasn't coming?"

"Me? No! I didn't doubt you for a second, did I Remus?"

Remus rolled his eyes. 

"Well, look I can't stay – we've got practice, I just wanted to make sure you didn't think I'd forgotten you."

"Would I think that?" said Sirius, giving him a hug. "Give 'em hell, kid. Especially Malfoy."

Harry flashed him a grin as he left. 

"I told you he'd come," said Sirius, flopping back into an armchair.

&&&

"Ok, team," Angelina said, sitting calmly on a bench in the changing rooms, making her easier to keep track of than their old captain, Wood, who had used to pace relentlessly. 

Fred and George were sprawled on separate benches, leaving very little room for the rest of them. Harry was standing up and the three girls were squashed onto a bench together. 

Luckily Fred and George seemed oblivious to the fact that Kate De Lour was eyeing them as though they were particularly interesting dung beetles that she intended to squash underfoot just because they were there. 

Harry stifled a grin and yawned instead. He didn't yawn much, but he made the most of it when he did. 

"Thank you Harry," said Angelina, after the others had had a good laugh. "I find the anatomy of your dinner extremely interesting."

"You're not going to spend hours going through tactics, are you Angelina? We've been at it for a month already." Fred moaned. 

"Fred, we haven't played a Quidditch match for over a year now, and Kate doesn't know all our stuff yet. And I'll try not to take as long as Oliver."

"Thanks a lot," said George, shifting over to make space on his bench. "Come sit here, Harry – me and Fred need protection from all these girls."

Katie Bell whacked him over the head. 

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"So, how was practise?"

"Short."

"You've been down there for almost three hours!"

Harry moaned and flopped down into a chair. "Tactics."

"Well," said Hermione, looking up from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five. "No offence to Angelina, but I think it's a bit unorganised to start working on tactics a week before the match."

"We _always_ do tactics," said Harry. "My broom is lacking exercise."

"Probably because you aren't bothered to use it when you go flying," said Hermione softly with a smile, going back to her book. 

"What about you?" Harry asked. "How was Defence?"

Ron crossed his eyes. "My nose _looks_ normal," he said. "Does it look longer to you?"

"She pulled the Pinocchio trick on you, did she?"

"The what?"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Duck, Harry!" 

Harry ducked. Wendy's fist flew over his head, and she turned to Ron, annoyed. 

"Will you stop that? I am trying to conduct a lesson, here."

"It _hurts_ when you hit people."

"It's supposed to, dung brains. Right, Harry, once more."

Harry smiled. He liked the way Wendy had of insulting people. It reminded him occasionally of Sirius chatting to Remus with use of the Blue Book or face-to-face, as they had been able to do this past month. 

Sleeve and Zedik were watching him from a desk on the side of the classroom, after agreeing reluctantly with Harry some weeks before that it would not be practical for them to be hanging on to him while he practised.

Harry's hand fighting techniques were improving slowly. Too slowly. He was learning all the rudimentary stuff and it preyed on his already tired brain.

"In the end, you'll be able to do the moves without thinking," Wendy had told him. "You'll be able to concentrate on other things. For now, start focussing on me and not the wall behind me."

Harry wanted that time to come now. He knew it was ridiculous, but wasn't a guy allowed to have a little ridiculousness in his life once in a while?

&&&

Draco Malfoy was not enjoying the current week. After being voted captain this year by general consent and a lot of gold, he was suddenly starting to realise that being Quidditch captain actually involved work. 

"Aren't we going to have _any_ tactics, Draco?" Montague asked suggestively, with a half-smirk. Montague had been favourite for Quidditch captain until Draco's father had stepped in, and he let Draco know it.

Derrick and Boyle, the Beaters, had left, and it had been easy for Draco to replace them with Crabbe and Goyle. The rest of the team had been decided before the Triwizard tournament last year – Bletchley, Keeper, and Pucey, Montague and Warrington as Chasers. 

Malfoy sighed. "Can't we just do what we always do? Beat them to a pulp?"

"There are rules in pulp-beating, Malfoy," Pucey reminded him. 

It was going to be a long afternoon.

&&&

Harry held his broom lightly, staring up at the night sky. It was a beautiful night for flying. He only hoped that the conditions for the match would be just as good.

"Um… is that you, Harry?"

Harry turned to see Sarah Pordell standing in the doorway. He smiled at her. She didn't smile back at first – for some reason she looked more scared than usual. Harry was suddenly very conscious of the fact that he had two snakes curled around various parts of his body.

"Yes."

"I guess you, er… want lots of practice before tomorrow…"

"Yep. Angelina's nearly as bad as old Wood was, if that's possible."

She gave him a very small smile back. "He's coming to the match with Anneka."

"Yeah, I know. Angelina told me."

"I can't wait to see Anneka," she said wistfully. 

Harry met her eyes. He could see her mother in those eyes. It used to scare him, but not anymore. 

"Um… I was thinking of flying tonight too… but if you want to be alone that ok…"

"No!" said Harry quickly. "I'd love to fly with you!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, sure, come on. You can help me try out all those tactics Angelina's been drumming into my head."

They spent hours on the Quidditch field. Once again, Harry was surprised by just how quick a learner Sarah was. When they were both totally exhausted they came back to earth. 

"That was fun," Harry panted.

"Yes," Sarah admitted, biting her lip. "Well – good luck in the match."

"Thanks," Harry grinned. 

She scuttled off for Gryffindor common room. Harry showered, then followed in her footsteps until he came to the tower. Everyone was in bed, it was so late. 

But not everyone was asleep. 

"Have a good time?" said a voice when Harry closed the door to the dormitory behind him. 

"Ron!" Harry hissed. "Don't scare me like that!"

Ron chuckled, and waited for him to get into bed. Sleeve and Zedik crawled off him and onto the end of the cover.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"You know what I said back in the Great Hall?"

"Which? You said quite a few things."

"About not being scared, because Voldemort will get you if you're scared."

"Yes."

"I didn't mean it."

"I know."

"I probably gave some first-years nightmares."

Ron threw a pillow at Harry. "Get some sleep, won't you? Quidditch tomorrow."

"Whatever. I wish I could talk to Snuffles right now." 

"Go to sleep!"

"Yeah, ok."

There was a brief pause.

"Harry?"

"Mmm?"

"Can I have my pillow back?"

&&&

Dumbledore drew an old hand across his eyes, flicking for the thousandth time through the worn pages of Harry's elusive diary. 

He'd been through every single book he could find and still he could not find an answer. The evidence was needed – he had to condemn the Dursleys no matter what – even if only by a Muggle court. 

He was almost positive by now that the words were Parseltongue, but Parseltongue was not a written language. Snakes had to hands to write with, after all. He thought back to the first night he had tried to decipher the riddle.

_The weird, italic letters curled around each other, not in straight lines but round and about the page. Yet it looked neat. One of the pages, near the end, was splattered in blood. _

What was he supposed to do, after all? He remembered the poem Sybil Trelawny had written for Harry's first birthday. It had quite upset Lily.

_'This little babe,_

_So few days old_

_Has come to rifle Satan's fold_

_All hell doth at his presence quake _

_Though he himself for cold do shake_

_For in this weak unarmed wise,_

_The gates of Hell he will surprise._

_With tears he fights, _

_And wins the field_

_His naked breast stands for a shield_

_His martial ensigns Cold and Need_

_And feeble flesh his warrior's steed.'*_

And it had come true, more than once, Dumbledore remembered, his mind tracing the years for the hundredth time – he seemed to do nothing else nowadays.

Suddenly, all at once, he was hit with an idea.

&&&

"All right team," said Angelina, pacing madly in such an obvious repetition of Oliver Wood that the girls had their hands stuffed in their mouths. 

She stopped suddenly. "I don't know why he did it," she said. "It doesn't help in the slightest. Ok – you know what to do. Let's go."

They stepped out onto the Quidditch team to roars of approval from every house but Slytherin, who had started throwing things in preference to booing, which by now must seem like a very soft pastime to them.

"And it's the Gryffindor line-up stepping onto the pitch!" Lee Jordan's magnified voice boomed. "Captain Johnson, Bell, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, Potter and new Keeper de Loor."

"It's de _Leur_," Kate protested under her breath, somehow managing to make every member of the team hear her all the same. 

"Er – sorry, that's de _Leur_," said Lee, rustling a piece of parchment next to the microphone. "And here come the Slytherins – Captain Malfoy, Montague, Pucey, Warrington, Crabbe, Goyle and Bletchley."

His words were nearly drowned out by the crowd, who stamped their feet on the floor in a deadly rhythm. 

"And the crowd seems very enthusiastic to start – so there are the two captains – don't hold on too long Angelina, you could get fleas…"

"Jordan!"

"Sorry Professor," said Lee, out of habit.

Angelina and Malfoy shook hands. Malfoy gave Harry a little smirk before mounting his broom. 

"And – there's the whistle – they're off! And Pucey's got the Quaffle, passes to Warrington, Warrington's up the pitch – he shoots - what an excellent save by new Keeper Kate de Leur – I can see this kid's set herself up all right!"

"Jordan…"

"And Quaffle goes to Johnson, Johnson ducks a Bludger – nice one Angelina – passes to… Bell, Bell speeding down the pitch, she shoots – she SCORES! Ten-Zero to Gryffindor!"

Harry, high in the sky, punched the air as Katie scored, causing Zedik to hiss at him from around his wrist.  Malfoy zoomed up behind him. 

"Wotcha, Potter."

"Get out of it, Malfoy."

"Not a chance."

"And Pucey's got the Quaffle, nice Bludger work there by Fred or George Weasley not sure which one – Quaffle falls to Spinnet, who passes to Bell – and it's back into the Slytherin goal for twenty points to Gryffindor!"

Katie and Alicia high-fived, but the Quaffle was already back in play.

"Slytherin chasers speeding up the pitch – don't know what's going on with their Beaters – it looks like they're putting those clubs to better uses by trying to kill each other with them…"

"Jordan!"

"Bludger hit towards Montague by one of the Weasleys, but Montague ducks – oh no he's going to score – look out!"

Kate took both arms off her broom and knocked the Quaffle away from the hoop and out of play. The Gryffindor spectators roared.

"And it's Johnson again," bellowed Lee, "who passes to Spinnet, who ducks a Bludger – looks like those Gorillas are back in play…"

"Jordan!"

"…speeds up the pitch towards Bell – ah no but she's intercepted by Montague who grabs the Quaffle, heading towards Gryffindor end… where's de Leur? Montague heading for goal – hang on… FOUL! FOUL! LOOK AT THE SODDING KEEPER, REF!!"

McGonagall didn't even bother to reprimand him; she was staring with open-mouthed ferocity as Crabbe held Kate around the waist, oblivious to all the injuries she inflicted upon him. 

Harry zoomed down to them, intending to try out one of his new moves on Crabbe's wall-like body, but Madam Hooch got their first. Some of the words she used made Katie Bell put her hands over her ears. 

"And it's TWO penalties for Gryffindor," Lee continued, as Madam Hooch blew her whistle twice. "And Angelina Johnson puts the first away, no trouble, thirty-zero – and again, Angelina!"

But Beltchley had saved. The Slytherins yelled their approval for their Keeper. Harry felt extremely inclined to remind a few of them that they hadn't got any points yet. 

"And it's Montague with the Quaffle once more, ducks two Bludgers, worse luck, passes to Pucey, who passes to Warrington, back to Warrington – no! Angelina's got it, come on Angelina – LOOK OUT!"

Too late. Harry dived towards her as the Bludger knocked her clean off her broom – but she was too far away – 

The crowd groaned as Angelina hit the ground and Madam Hooch blew her whistle for time out. 

"Get back! Back _all _of you!" Hooch yelled at the Gryffindor team. 

"Is she going to be okay?" Katie demanded. 

"She won't be playing for a while, is my diagnosis," Hooch murmured. "She's out – stone cold."

"She's not… dead, is she?" Kate said, unwittingly sliding closer to Harry.

"Of course not, you silly girl!" Hooch snapped. Two Gryffindor volunteers came forward to float Angelina to the hospital wing. 

The remaining team went into a huddle. "Now what Harry?" Fred asked. 

"Me? Why me?"

Fred raised his eyebrows. "You _are_ vice-captain, or had you forgotten?"

"Oh – right…"

"And Harry Potter takes Johnson's place as Captain!" Lee announced the crowd.

"What _can_ we do?" Katie demanded. "There're no reserve chasers! Who are we going to find to play in the next thirty seconds?"

A light bulb lit up inside Harry's head. "Wait here!" he said quickly, and rushed off to talk to Professor McGonagall, who had come down from the commentator's box to see if everything was all right. 

They watched him. "So… what's he doing?" Fred asked.

"Not a clue," said George. 

Harry and McGonagall moved over to talk to Madam Hooch. There was a heated discussion during which the Slytherins started complaining that they wanted to continue the game.

Finally, Harry summoned a broom from the store cupboard with a wave of one hand – 

"Did he do that without a wand or was it just my eyes?" asked Kate,

- and climbed into the stands, minutes later coming back with a small, black-haired girl trailing along behind him. 

"What's this, Harry?" George asked, incredulously. 

"Meet our new chaser for the day, Sarah Pordell," said Harry proudly, placing one hand onto Sarah's shoulder. 

The girl blushed and took the broom Harry offered her.

"Isn't she a first year?" said Alicia, doubtfully. 

"Yes," said Harry. "No problem. I just pointed out that if they could bend the rules for me, they could bend the rules for her in a sticky situation."

"It's certainly sticky enough," said Fred.

"Is she good?" Kate demanded, unsubtly. 

"She's brilliant," Harry said truthfully, ignoring Sarah's protests. "Brooms – everyone!"

The whistle blew. 

"And play resumes – looks like Potter's managed to find a new chaser – what's her name someone? Oh – thank you Miss. Weasley – Pordell! Pordell for the Gryffindor team!" 

The Gryffindors cheered. Sarah, flying close beside Harry, whispered. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Of course you can," said Harry. "Just don't be afraid."

She smiled at him – properly – and zoomed off to take her position in the centre of the pitch.  

"And it's Bell steaming up the pitch, passes to Spinnet who drops to Pordell, who – look at that!"

Sarah ducked underneath Crabbe and Goyle and tossed the Quaffle one handedly up and into one of the hoops.

The players and spectators looked at her in silence for about three seconds before bursting out into cheers and boos.

"Yes!" Harry yelled. 

"Think you're clever, don't you?" Malfoy hissed, zipping past him. "I'd watch out if I were you…"

"And Warrington has the Quaffle, intercepted by Spinnet, who passes to Bell – no! Intercepted by Montague, Montague with the Quaffle, owch! Hit in the stomach by a Bludger! Good on you George – or Fred, oh who cares, one of them anyway – Quaffle picked up by Pordell, who gives it another spectacular toss – YES! FORTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!!"

The Slytherins were starting to get frantic – they were all standing up now, yelling at their team members. 

"Pucey with the Quaffle, passed to Montague, Warrington, Pucey again – they're heading for goal, Bludger knocked towards the Keeper by Goyle, or could be Crabbe – look out, Kate!"

Kate dove quickly, and Pucey rammed the Quaffle into one of the goals. The Slytherin stands erupted.

"Forty-Ten to Gryffindor…" Lee moaned. 

The game continued in much the same way – the Slytherins doing everything in their power to stop Gryffindor scoring, and fouling Katie so thoroughly that she soon looked about to fall off her broom. 

Sarah kept pulling off spectacular goals. She knew the chaser's tactics by heart since last night, and the three of them moved together like a unit, almost like the Chasers at the Quidditch World cup.

Still there was no sign of the snitch.

The score was 100-90 to Gryffindor, and the Slytherin team were starting to come together into a group, flailing out with pure muscle to cut through the Gryffindor ranks. 

Harry decided it was time for a distraction. 

Ron? 

~Yes? ~

Warn Hermione, will you? 

He dove.

The entire population of Hogwarts screamed. Malfoy faltered for a moment, then followed him, so fast that they were both just a blur. 

Harry poured every ounce of concentration into his dive. The ground was five feet, two feet away – 

He pulled his broom up sharply and sped upwards again, the tip of his broom brush the grass. He heard a thump behind him, and the Slytherins groaned. 

Malfoy lay spread-eagled on the ground at very odd angles. Montague started waving for time out. 

Suddenly Harry saw it. A gleam of gold twinkling in the sunlight at the other end of the pitch. He sped towards it as Montague starting whistling to get Madam Hooch's attention; she looked too shocked to raise the whistle to her lips. 

It started moving but he sped after it, able to see it clearer than ever without the edge of his glasses to impede his vision. 

He reached – his fingers closed – 

"GRYFFINDOR WIN! HARRY POTTER GETS THE SNITCH! 250-90 TO GRYFFINDOR!"

The whistle finally blew. Six red blurs thumped into Harry, shrieking and laughing. 

"Watch the snakes!" Harry tried to say, but he was laughing too hard. 

Suddenly, the world did not seem like such a dark place after all. 

Would you rather freeze to death…? 

**

 *From Benjamin Britten's Ceremony of Carols.

OK! PLEASE REVIEW! Just cos I didn't leave an enormous cliffie for once doesn't mean that I have lost my thirst for reviews! And just to show how much I love you, I'm going to do ANOTHER thanks list!!!!

Here Be Thanks:

Wolf Moon: Well, I'm thanking you now! I must have missed you before – sorry!!! 

keebler-elmo: The Dursley's got bailed out by Aunt Marge. I'm guessing she wasn't too happy about it.

NasserPotter: I wouldn't dream of giving Ron a smidgeon of Harry's glory! (grin)

PhoenixPadfoot89

Chaser1

Leah

Charma1219

magnetic-starfish

ParanoiaIn2005: I'm not very good at writing constant action – it's easier with dialogue. I'll do my best though!

princess55

SillyGillie

LoonyLoopyLisa

Iniysa

Porphyrophobic Grape

LILRKCHK

Katani Petitedra

mandie/snuffles

Dumbledore

Panthercub

Brion: You are not the only one who wants to know. It's like an ongoing mystery. Should be cleared up soon.

Senshichan14: Oooh! I like bribes! **proceeds to eat sweets, play gameboy color advanced, and advanced sp, watch the big screen tv and dvds on the dvd player, makes pizza with the pizza maker, orders around the robot maid and wins the lottery a lot.** Was there a reason for doing all this stuff? Oh yeah, to bribe me to write. Oh well, I guess I'll go play some more gameboy. (-:

Agnei Smith

gaul1

Zahri Seb Melitor: That's quite possibly the longest review I've ever got, congrats. I hate to think what it must have been like to type that out twice. Does it matter whether Benjamin was magical or muggle? He's _dead_. Usually it doesn't count much afterwards. (-: He he yes, poor Neville. Extremely confusing for him, I love to do that to characters.  Feel free to roast all the Daily Prophet people. We hate them. He he thanks for your suggestive extract. Don't worry, I'm going to make 'the uncovering' very dramatic and important. No idea how so far but what the hell.

EriEka127

Lady FoxFire: Soon, soon.

Illusoire: Thanks for all that help. But you're right, Mouxaile is my brain child and I wouldn't change her for the world. Actually I didn't use an online dictionary – don't trust them. I used a perfectly ordinary oxford English/French dictionary and it failed me miserably. Oh well. 

Naomi SilverWolf

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Athenakitty

voldemortsucks18

Hrei-siesn

Lunawolf

Sunkyssed

Firebreath

Cataclysmic

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mronimusha: Yeah, sure you can use the shields idea if you want. The colour scheme thing is sort of personal though, so if you're going to use that could you please drop my name in reference to it? Thanks!

Mella deranged: Once again, everyone wants to know, it's not just you. It will be explained – eventually!

ranger2

Daisi

Wind Whisperer

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potter-man1: he he he.

TuxedoMac: Thanks!

Anya Wood: Just wait! (By the way that was NOT a nutty review. What has happened to your nut?) Hey! How'd you manage to review twice? I am very well, thank you, though seriously annoyed at the temperature of my room right now… brr..

crystal wolf=P

Rain Warrior

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The Social Leper: yep.

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Sea Chelle: I'm so glad somebody likes what I did with Hermione. I know what you mean, I was in a trio for two years, and people often get left out when people have to pair up and stuff. So many things happen in twos.

K-Black

zorro x

Thank you all soooooooo much for your reviews! Some of them were ultra long – I'm so happy! However my fingers are freezing up and it is v. hard to type… brr… way to cold in here – so, PLEASE REVIEW and see you next chapter!

~*Laterose*~

**


	31. Motto? Never Write Things Down

**Yeah, yeah yeah, I know, I've been ages. I've been working on my new RPG forum – please go to my bio for the link if you want to join. Everyone's invited – I seriously need members.

Plus, this chapter was really hard to write. Sorry it's so short, but hey, I have a life. Joking, joking. I know, my life should involve nothing but this story. Well, anyway, here it is, for your reviewing pleasure. You are going to hate me when you finish reading it but that's your problem, you don't know where I live. (-:

Dedicated to Anya Wood – who begged incessantly for the events in this chapter to take place. **

"I hate him." Malfoy clenched and unclenched his fists. "I. Hate. Him."

"Calm down, Draco," said Pansy Parkinson, who was looking as though she would rather be anywhere else other than sitting beside Malfoy's hospital bed, trying to ignore Angelina Johnson lying unconscious in the opposite bed. "It _was _a dirty trick he played on you…"

"Don't compliment him! It was a perfectly legitimate trick! Mr. Play-By-The-Rules is going to get it, you'll see! And that girl," he snarled. "She's for it too – turning up out of the blue, she's not even second year yet!"

"Yes, Draco."

"There's got to be something…"

"Yes, Draco."

"They seemed pretty close, didn't they, Potter and the girl?"

"I suppose so..."

Malfoy smiled. He had it made. 

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Harry laughed as Fred and George popped open a bottle of Butterbeer, totally showering him. 

Most of the Gryffindors were now singing uproariously about he had single handily crushed Malfoy and won the game in the space of forty seconds.

Sarah Pordell was also covered in Butterbeer, as were Kate de'Leur and Katie Bell. Alicia had somehow escaped into a corner of the room, but Fred and George caught her and soaked her too. 

Oliver's voice was hoarse from cheering, but that didn't stop him singing along with the Gryffindor students long into the night. "Wronski Feint!" he kept yelling. "What a Wronski Feint!"

"I wish he wouldn't keep repeating it," said Harry, after drying himself with a flick of one hand and sitting down next to Ron. 

"I thought it was marvellous," said Ron, grinning.

"I didn't even get to see," said Hermione for the fifth time. "_He_ put his hands over my eyes."

"I wonder what gave him that idea," said Harry, also grinning.

Sarah came over. "Harry – I just wanted to say thanks. For letting me play."

"Sarah – you saved the day!" Harry said. "I'm the one who should be thanking you!"

She blushed. "Well, um… I'm going to bed now. But… thanks."

She left. 

"Harry – you don't think you killed Malfoy, do you?"

"Probably not," said Ron. "We'd have heard about it by now, wouldn't we? Shame."

"He deserved it," said Harry. 

"He didn't say anything horrid to you, did he?" asked Hermione."

"Only the usual. 'You'd better watch out, Potter,' that sort of thing."

Hermione still looked worried. "Come on, Hermione," said Ron, grabbing a handful of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "What can he do?"

"Plenty of things, if he's writing to his father," said Hermione."

"Oh come on," said Ron. "It's bad enough him going on about his father the whole time without you starting."

"Ron – Lucius Malfoy's a _Death Eater_," Hermione reminded him. "He nearly killed Harry twice."__

"He can't do anything at Hogwarts," Ron said confidently. "He's not a governor anymore."

"What about Christmas?" asked Hermione.

"I'll stay here," said Harry, quickly. 

"I'd ask you over," said Ron. "But I'm staying here too. I am _not_ going to Romania again. I very nearly got fried by dragon fire six times before."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Sarah sat on the bed, staring hopelessly at the parchment in her hands.

_Sarah,_

_Look, I know you like me. I mean, you'd have to, what with my incredible skills at Quidditch and the fact that I am famous and everything. But we aren't meant to be, right? I mean, I'm rich and famous and you're a titchy little orphan four years younger than me and not nearly as good at Quidditch. What can you do? So I think it's better if you just stay away from me. But we can still be friends._

_Harry Potter._

It was some kind of a joke – it had to be. Just lying there on her pillow when she got in. Tears started to fall. 

He was right of course. She_ was _a titchy little orphan, and he was much better at Quidditch than she was. 

Maybe she should just leave him alone. She must have annoyed him a lot, coming in when he was changing and then wanting to play Quidditch with him. He must really hate her. 

Someone came into the room. "Sarah? That you?" It was Anneka. 

Sarah lay back and pretended to be asleep, praying her cousin wouldn't see her like this. 

"Sez? You been crying?" a finger touched her wet cheek, and then grabbed the parchment. 

"No!" Sarah sat up, very nearly banging heads with Anneka. "Don't – it's mine! It's personal…"

"And not very nice, if it made you cry," Anneka pointed out. She read it, and as she read her eyes grew wide. She screwed the paper up in one fist. "I can't believe this. _We can still be friends_… what cheek! And I liked him!"

Sarah burst into tears, and Anneka held her, rocking her gently as she sobbed. 

"I'll set it straight," said her cousin. "I'll sort it out – don't worry."

"She was right," Sarah sobbed into her top. "She was right…"

"Who was right?"

"G – Ginny!" Sarah wailed. "She t-told me to stay away from him, and I d-didn't listen, and –"

"That's it," said Anneka, and left the room. 

"No – don't!" 

The door slammed.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"HARRY POTTER!" the angry voice came down from the girl's staircase. 

Harry sat up. The room fell silent.

Anneka was storming down the stairs, her face red and her hands balled into fists. "How DARE you?" she demanded, coming within three feet of Harry, Ron and Hermione. "How DARE you?"

"What?" asked Harry.

"WHAT? YOU KNOW PERFECTLY WELL WHAT I MEAN, YOU SELF-CENTRED –"

Harry was completely nonplussed. "Anneka –"

"I OUGHT TO GIVE YOU A HIDING RIGHT HERE AND NOW –"

Hiding… give you a hiding… I ought to – 

"Annie?" Oliver asked tentatively, bravely coming within his girlfriend's reach. "Annie – what's –" 

"You stay out of this, Oliver!" Anneka screamed at him. Harry stood up to face her, trying to free all thoughts of the Dursleys from his mind. 

"Anneka – I really don't know what you're talking about –"

"Oh, don't you?" she spat, brandishing a piece of parchment in front of his face. Harry saw enough to notice that it was in his handwriting before it was waved out of his reach. "THIS! This is what I'm talking about Potter, you self-absorbed, egotistical boy!"

Boy… it's no wonder you're so small if this is all you can do… I ought to give you a hiding right now…

Stop it, Harry demanded at the voices in his head. Stop it, please…

~Harry? Harry what is she talking about? ~

Not you Ron – "

"Yes, Ginny was right about you – just being near you is a danger, do you make it a habit to break girl's hearts? All these people look up to you, you know! But really, you're just a big-minded hero in your own little world – you don't even think about other people's feelings…"

What about your aunt's feelings? We raised you, fed you, clothed you –

Stop it!

"I don't know who you think you are –"

JUST WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, BOY?

"STOP IT!!!"

Anneka stopped, one hand half raised in the air, still clutching the parchment. Hermione stood up and took it from her in the silence, lowering her eyes to scan it. They widened as she read. 

"Oh – Harry – you didn't – you can't have done…"

"What did I do?" Harry asked her, exasperated, at the same time that Anneka said, "Oh yes he did – the evidence, right there – in front of you…"

Hermione wordlessly passed him the note. Harry read it. 

"I never wrote this," he said, handing it back, trying to control his anger. Ron didn't need to read it – he already had done, through Harry's eyes. 

~It was in your handwriting, ~ he pointed out, silently. 

"I know it was in my handwriting!" Harry shouted, out loud. The room stared at him. 

Zedik and Sleeve, sensing his anger and fearing an attack, came out of their hiding places and slid onto the floor, hissing menacingly. Within seconds there was a very wide, empty circle around Harry. 

"Where is Sarah?" Harry asked. 

"Upstairs," said Anneka, eyeing the snakes. "But I doubt she'll want to talk to you."

"Malfoy," Ron said, standing up. "I bet Malfoy did this. The rubbish in that letter sounds just like him."

"It's possible," said Hermione, "If he had a sample of your handwriting."

"Come on – surely Malfoy wouldn't stoop this low?"

"Of course he would," said Ron. "Especially since you knocked him off his broom earlier."

"Oh yeah…"

"Look – what's going on here?" demanded Oliver. Anneka tossed him the letter and slowly it was passed around the room. 

"Ron's right!" Fred suddenly yelled. "Harry would never have written this – I know him!"

"Me too!" said George. Others joined them as a murmur of assent swept across the common room.

"Yeah, Harry's a good guy!"

"Malfoy's the git we're after!"

"Yeah, he hates all Gryffindors, poor little Sarah didn't stand a chance!"

"Get the slimy ferret!"

The last comment caused a slight moment of humour before dying away again into the crowd.

"But –" said Anneka, trying to prove her case. "How would Malfoy get a copy of your handwriting?"

There was silence. 

"Remember last week when we lost twenty points because you couldn't find your potions essay?" Ron suddenly suggested.

"Yes," said Harry. "And I got detention too. Horrible old greasy –"

"You've got it, Ron!" said Hermione. 

"What?" said Harry. 

"Malfoy must have nicked your essay!" Ron laughed. "I knew it was him! Anyway, he must have kept it for some obscure reason – and he used it to forge a letter!"

"What, just by copying my handwriting?"

"There are magical methods of forging," Hermione said, knowingly. "Trust Malfoy to know spells like that – they're quite obviously illegal…"

"That's it then," said Harry. "There's your answer."

"Right," said Fred. "Malfoy's dead."

"Yeah, he'd better watch out from now on," said George, menacingly, balling on hand into a fist and smacking it into the opposite palm. 

Hermione bit her lip. "I'm not sure if that's such a good idea," she said, "You could get in trouble… and I'd have to report you…"

"Hey, I'm a Prefect too," said Harry, tapping his badge. "And I hereby give Fred and George permission to prank Malfoy into oblivion. And if Dumbledore doesn't like it, well, he can take away my badge. What the hell."

"Here here!" said one of the older prefects from across the room, and then the others joined in. "Death to Malfoy!"

The door to the common room burst open and closed, revealing Angelina Johnson with one arm in a sling and wearing hospital pyjamas. 

"Angelina?" asked Harry incredulously. "You should be in bed!"

"Harry! I had to come and tell you – it's Malfoy, he's going to play a horrible trick on you – "

She stopped suddenly at the amused expression on everyone's faces. "I'm too late, aren't I?"

"Yep," said Ron. "But there – we have a witness, it WAS Malfoy!"

"DEATH TO MALFOY! DEATH TO MAL-"

The door to the common room opened, revealing a disgruntled Professor McGonagall. "Mr. Weasley?"

"Which Weasley?" someone called from the back. There was much giggling and slapping of hands. 

McGonagall looked pointedly at Ron. "The Headmaster would like to see you." She caught sight of Angelina and tutted. "Miss. Johnson, I'm surprised at you. Back to the hospital wing, young lady."

Ron got up, looking puzzled, and made to follow her, but at the last minute she turned and said. "Team? Good game." 

Hearty cheers followed her, Angelina and Ron out of the common room. 

"I'm sorry Harry," said Anneka, when they had died down and the party had recommenced. "I guess I misjudged you." She sat down; looking at the forged letter, then ripped it up into shreds. "Little bastard."

"Tell me about it," said Harry. "Don't worry about it, really. I wonder why Dumbledore wanted Ron? I was sure for a moment that she was coming to see me."

"It's not all about you, you know," said Hermione, punching him. He grinned back at her. 

"Er… Harry?" said Anneka, bushing a little as Oliver came to sit beside her, obviously preparing for 'a long talk'. "I don't suppose you could explain – to Sarah, I mean – I mean –"

"Yeah, ok," said Harry. Hermione looked like she was going to reply scathingly to Anneka, but Harry stopped her. 

Noticing the charms on the staircase, he removed them with a barely noticeable tap on the banister before ascending. 

The door to the first year's dormitory was open, and Harry heard hurried footsteps running away from the door. He smiled and knocked before pushing the door open. 

Sarah was sitting on the bed, red-eyed and fearful. To put her at ease, he did not close the door behind him but sat on the opposite bed. 

"There was a lot of shouting." Sarah said, not meeting his eyes. 

"Yeah," said Harry, grinning. "Your cousin can't half yell."

"You didn't write it." It wasn't a question.

"No."

"I knew you hadn't."

Harry looked up at her tear-stained face. "Really?"

She blushed. "Well – maybe for a minute I thought you had. But only a really little one."

Harry laughed. "A really little minute, eh?"

She giggled. 

"Hey – Sarah…"

"Sez."

"Ok, Sez, listen – great flying today."

"Thank you."

"No, I mean it. You're going to hear it from hundreds of people tomorrow but not one of them will mean it as much as me, see?"

"Really?"

"Honest and truly."

She smiled. It lit up her face and Harry grinned back. 

"Thanks. Honest and truly."

……….

Hermione, left alone, wandered over to the far side of the party, where Ginny was picking half-heartedly at a bowl of crisps. 

"Hi," said Hermione, sitting down beside her.

"What? Oh, er, hi, Hermione."

They sat in silence for a minute, until Hermione said, "I'm not stupid, you know."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Everyone else may have missed it, but I know what I heard."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really? Then let me explain it to you. Anneka said that you'd said that being around Harry is a danger."

Ginny did not answer. 

"If you believe all that rubbish the Ministry are spouting…"

"Of course I don't!" 

"Well then."

Ginny hesitated before answering. "Cedric wouldn't have died without Harry."

Hermione stood up, her chair crashing to the floor behind her. "How dare you?" she hissed, her hair standing on end. "How dare you?"

"Easily enough," said Ginny, standing up and tossing her hair over her shoulders. Her pale cheeks were flushed with pink. "You're hair's a mess, by the way."

She walked up the staircase and went into her own dormitory, slamming the door. 

"I'm watching you," whispered Hermione to herself. "You can be sure of that."

…

Ron was confused. Sitting in front of him were Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Sitting on the desk in front of Dumbledore was a familiar looking book. 

Dumbledore lifted it with one hand. "Do you know what this is?"

"No," Ron lied.

"This is Harry's diary from over the summer. I don't know why he decided to keep a diary over the summer, nor why it was hidden in his room, but –"

"How do you know it's a diary?" Ron asked, a little too quickly. 

Dumbledore smiled and opened the book to the first page. There, in florid English was: Harry Potter's Journal.

He'd forgotten about that. When he'd lived Harry's life over those few hours so long ago, only the important events had stuck in his mind. But he remembered that diary, all right. 

Dumbledore opened it to the second page. There was the untidy, spiky writing he knew so well, spiralling out from the centre instead of reading from left to right.

"Ron, do you know what language this is written in?" 

"No," Ron lied again. 

Dumbledore's eyes hardened. "As Harry's Blood Brother you will have seen Harry's whole life. Surely you can tell me about this book."

"I don't remember enough about Harry's life to understand that writing. Besides, that's Harry's. It's personal. I wouldn't tell you even if I could."

"Ron," said Sirius' voice, and it was pleading. "If you can read this – we have to know. It's all we've got to convict the Dursley's – it's all we've got to get Harry off that stupid Special Notice in Social Services."

Ron's thoughts conflicted violently. Harry hated being on that Notice – he could feel the hatred even from here if he searched hard enough. But he also did not want people to know what had happened at the Dursleys'; otherwise he would have done this himself. 

"What'll happen?" he croaked, then cursed himself for saying it as Remus' eyes suddenly lit up with hope. Now they knew that he could read the Diary.

"We'll send a report to the department that's monitoring Harry's case. There'll be another trial and I will stand as witness," said Dumbledore. "No one need ever know your part in this."

Ron sat down, knowing he had lost. "You're asking me to betray my Blood Brother," he growled. 

"No," said Remus. "We're asking you to help him."

Dumbledore wordlessly handed him the book. 

"It's Parseltongue," said Ron. "No one's ever written anything in it before, but Harry just wrote the sounds that came out of his mouth in that spiral. You could say he's invented a written language."

Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Said a voice inside his head. It wasn't Harry. It was his conscience.  Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

He's going to be so mad at me.

He doesn't have to know.

Taking a deep breath, Ron began to read.

"Dear Journal. I've been thinking about something recently – I know it's weird but then so is my life right now. Would you rather freeze to death…?"

**Ah, I so enjoy being evil. Muahahahaha! **Ducks anvil** Hey! Who threw that? **


	32. Would You Rather Freeze to Death?

**** This is IT, guys and girls. Would You Rather Freeze to Death – Revealed. I must warn you that you might be disappointed.**

**Urg. Ok, sorry, I know I've been ages, but I'm kinda busy with school and stuff, plus all these RPGs I innocently joined. What idiot told me about those? Now I have no time for anything else. It'll probably be another week before this chapter's finished but I thought I'd start now. If you've forgotten what the story's about, and don't want to read the whole thing again, start re-reading from Chapter 29, the summary chapter.**

**News:**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE check out my new story: From Age to Age the Same. It's a HP futuristic and I love it, it's my total brainchild. Everybody worship Silas the strong!**

**Citcat299: Riiiiiiight. Are you gonna tell them about us??**

**I was just getting to that. Ok, I've also made a joint account with my pal citcat299. You can find us at fanfiction.net/~Laterosecitcat299, and we've just posted our first humorous story: If Ron was King… We spent ages writing it, so some actual readers would be appreciated…**

**Something I neglected to mention last chapter: Kitani Petitedra has done some fantastic fan art for this fic; you can catch it on my bio. It's all of Harry's animals so far – plus some others I haven't used yet! Do also let her know your appreciation. Kit, you're a star!**

**Urg, how sad am I, I have my own newsletter. Er… never mind; Ok, on with the chapter, cos I know you're dying to know the end of that annoying sentence… ****

_Dear Journal,_

_I've been thinking about something recently – I know it's weird but then so is my life right now. Would you rather freeze to death, burn to death or starve to death, get beaten to death, or die of disease? I mean, normally you could pick a quick, probably painless Avada Kedavra, but what if you didn't have that choice?_

_Most people can hope that they'll die of old age, but me? It's definitely going to be one of that lot. My uncle's doing his best to see just how far I can survive under each of them – well, except Avada Kedavra, but I've already survived that one so we can check that off and put it aside for future use, by a wizard at the very least._

_Of course, there are plenty of other ways to go, but most of those are, well, accidents. Like falling off a cliff or a high building, or a car crash, like how I thought my parents died until I was eleven. How pathetic is that? Mind, my life probably would have been a lot simpler if they HAD died in a car crash. A lot nicer if they hadn't died at all. _

_Anyway, all the aforementioned ones, apart from accidents, are probably the slowest and the most painful, like disease. Could you image what would happen if I got sick and died? All those people who want to kill me would be severely cheated. _

_I saw three Avada Kedavras last night. There was a man, a woman and another old man, I think it was the woman's father. Even the old man was very strong, all the way until the end. The woman tried to escape out of a window but she wasn't fast enough – Voldemort can see through walls or something.  I woke up before I could see her fall._

_ It's not fair, you know. Since I'm the one that always has to fight him, I might as well have super senses too – or at least some way of blocking the Cruciatus. God, that hurts. Day before yesterday  there were three, strong, fully grown men and they well all FIGHTING it! God, can't they just leave it alone – you can't fight the Cruciatus curse! It hurts so much more when people try and stop it – at least with the old people and children it's over really quickly. _

_God, I'm selfish. Did you hear me back then? All I care about is myself, it's no wonder half the world wants to kill me. If Rita Skeeter knew I was talking like this all the trees in the world would have to be cut down to meet with paper demands._

_So anyway, back to the death theory. Today was freezing day, with a few other things mixed in for good measure. I woke up shivering – which is normal but this time it was from cold, not nausea. When I blew out I could see my breath on the air, all misty like when the outside air is cold and crisp. Except I was _inside _and in bed. The fact that Dudley nicked my duvet earlier didn't help either, but I don't think it would have been much use anyway. I got dressed really quickly, and my clothes felt like they'd been kept in ice. I mean, I know that I live in England but this was too much! It was only after I finished dressing that I realised it was one o'clock in the morning, so the temperature was perfectly reasonable – or at least it would have been if I had chosen for some obscene reason to camp outside. By looking at my room you might not realise it – but the Dursleys do actually have money. A lot of it. We have central heating. _

_As soon as I stepped out of my room the warmth was like being chucked into a bath of boiling water. I had to duck back inside briefly to be able to breath before inching myself outwards. My first thoughts were: damn. I'm going to get chilblains. The second thought was: What the hell???_

_I found out afterwards, of course. Uncle turned off the heat in my room to save on heating bills, like he does in the cellar and in the kitchen in summer. "It's not like we've got anything to keep warm in there," he said when he was telling Aunt Petunia about it. I 'happened' to be cleaning the hall at the time so I heard him from the lounge. I'm _sure_ he meant for me to hear that remark. _

_He had the biggest grin on his face when he told me to do the dishes after breakfast. I was still a little chilly from the after effects of sleeping in sub-zero temperatures practically all night and the boiling water didn't half scorch. I actually swore – which is a big mistake in this house, no matter how quiet you think your voice is. Aunt Petunia slapped me across my freezing-cold face and said to watch my lip, which started to swell up. I was much to worried about having my whole body doused in boiling water at that point to complete the age old pun by lowering my eyes to try and see my mouth. So I didn't. Aunt Petunia looked quite disappointed. _

_By lunchtime it was still freezing, even out in the garden, and it's been warm all week. I wouldn't have been surprised if there was frost out, but there wasn't – just a lot of wet dew that completely soaked my trousers and invaded my shoes so I can't even wear those now without squelching. I nearly got them taken away from me too – and they're the only pair of shoes I've got that's not in my trunk, locked in my old cupboard. When we first arrived I seriously thought for a minute that they were going to lock _me _in the cupboard, but they're probably still too afraid of Sirius to do that. _

_Weirdly enough, they're not worried that I'm not writing to Sirius. Is it even possible that they've forgotten about him?? I highly doubt it somehow – I wouldn't have been able to get to the World Cup last year if it weren't for him. _

_So anyway, I was in the garden. And it rained. Again. So if it wasn't bad enough that I had wet shoes and trousers, everything else got wet as well. The only good thing about this was that Mrs. Figg stayed inside and didn't come out to ask personal questions. I got three whole rows of pansy bulbs planted, and oh, lucky me – there's fourteen rows left. They have to go all the way around the garden, Uncle Vernon said, the border's looking a bit bare. He even looked at me like it was my fault. Unfortunately he can't sack the gardener. Then he'd actually have to pay one. Or, heaven forbid do the work himself. _

_Sorry, just had a quick fit of laughter, trying to imagine Uncle Vernon bent over in the flowerbeds planting pansies in the rain. Oh my aching sides! I hope nobody heard me – it's midnight and I still can't sleep because of this damned cold – and I'm wearing every single one of Dudley's hand-me-downs, including underwear and socks. Never thought they'd come in useful…_

_Anyway – the cold. When I came in from the garden something awful happened. Uncle Vernon yelled at me to get changed and go back down into the living room. So I did – what else could I do? I knew it was a mistake as soon as I walked in the door and he locked it behind me. There was a belt in his hand. _

_He's never hit me. Well, not for ages. Not since I was at least seven – at that was for something I actually did – can't remember anymore. That was when his company was failing, he used to get drunk a lot and take it out on me. But he didn't usually leave scars. God, my back hurts. I'd forgotten how it lasts, and you can feel the blood running down your skin but you can't reach it. _

_In a way it's even worse than Cruciatus because with the curse it stops hurting a while after. It still aches and everything, but really it's just the memory that makes you think you're still burning all over. Your throat is hoarse from screaming and you feel like you've been ripped apart, but that's all that's really wrong with you._

_ I've been hurting for over twelve hours and it still stings. When you add this to the fact that my body temperature had been about twenty degrees for the entire day… well, you get the idea. Ever slapped yourself when you're almost numb with cold. It hurts, doesn't it? I wish I had been numb, then for a while at least it wouldn't really be as painful._

_Well, enough with the self-pity, that's enough to depress anyone. God, I hope no one ever figures out how to read this. But I have to write something, if only so that when I'm older I can look back and laugh. Wait, what am I talking about? Get older? Who's getting older? Not me. Well – some other Parselmouth in the distant future. Maybe when I get to Hogwarts I'll hide this in the Chamber of Secrets and it won't get found for centuries. _

_Hello future. I hope the world is a better place. _

_Dear Diary,_

_It's been three days, and I've now been at the Dursley's for a week and a half. It's worse than any other year. You know wht I said about dying? My Uncles' gone to the other extreme with this theories of how to get me seriously hurt. _

_Hey, there's a thought. Maybe he has a list. How sick and perverted. A Harry-torture checklist. Ha. _

_No, I won't go so far as to call it torture. Torture is what villains do – intelligent, evil people like Voldemort and Malfoy. Crucio is torture. Imperious is torture. My Uncle is a flabby idiot who likes to drink and take his frustration out on people weaker than him – i.e. everyone except sumo-wrestlers and fully grown wizards. _

_God, when I'm seventeen they'd better watch out. Two more years – one and a half more summers. I can't wait. _

_Anyway, today was burning day, and I'm not talking about Phoenixes either. Don't worry, I didn't get shoved in into a fire or anything, though it came close. _

_The temperature in my room isn't such a problem anymore because the weather's taken a turn for the better and as long as I wear plenty of clothes at night I'm ok. I did have to spend most of the day repainting the shed though – in the now boiling midday sun. As I may have mentioned before – I know where I live, but this is ridiculous. _

_It's the second time I've painted the stupid shed this summer too, and now I've got a ton of splinters that I can't get out because they're coated in brown paint and besides, I haven't got any tweezers. You'd think I could wash it off but apparently that's wasting water. That's what I am. A waste of life, a waste of space. A death magnet._

_Last night – god, I don't even want to think about last night, but my mind can't help itself, most of the time. There was a woman and a man – no kids thankfully. Voldemort called the man 'Mr. Pordell'. He fought. He fought hard – but he died because they always die in the end. _

_The woman was very small, and she looked ill. She didn't fight. At least she died quickly – I think Goyle killed her, and neither of those goons is very good at drawn out curses. I really don't understand where they find the mental capacity to perform Avada Kedavra._

_Voldemort didn't seem too happy about it. He kept muttering on about lines. Don't ask me what that's about, because your guess is as good as mine. _

_Anyway – after I finished the shed – which took hours and resulted in a frying pan whack to the head that I was too slow to dodge due to the fact that I don't think I've eaten for five days, I did the ironing. Which hurt. A lot. Aunt Petunia deliberately knocked it so that it practically burned the skin off my fingers. I stuck it in cold water fast as I could – and got walloped for it by uncle Vernon later. Waste of water again. I don't know. _

_At least it was my left hand, so at least I can write. I made a makeshift bandage out of an old T-shirt but the marks are fading already. I thought burns lasted for longer, but maybe it isn't such a bad burn. It hurt, anyway. _

_I've got a headache, and if it's natural then I'm the Minister for Magic. My scar is throbbing like hell from constant Death Eater activity. Why can't he just give it up?? He probably knows how much it hurts me so he burns their marks for fun. Vicious bastard. _

_I lost my History of Magic book to the fire today too. Dudley must've snuck into my room and found it on the desk. Stupid stupid stupid! I always hide them  - why did I have to forget today of all days?? Anyway, Uncle Vernon grabbed me and made me watch while he threw it on the fire – this was right before I got the belting for the iron and water incident. _

_Oh God, someone get me out of here before I suffocate._

_Dear Diary,_

_Froze again today. Bloody weather. Hardly my fault, but I suppose if you twisted pretty much anything it would lead down to me – whoops, self accusation. Got to stop that – apparently it's bad for your physiological health._

_Hermione called yesterday! Can you believe that? On the telephone – I had to speak in a kind of garbled code but I think she got the message. She's smart, she'll figure it out. I didn't want them to think that I wasn't writing because I didn't want to – I had to let them know there were bars on the doors and the window catch has been broken off and it doesn't open. Pig came just after she called but couldn't get through, poor thing. _

_I think I've got a few broken ribs – or at least yesterday I had. They don't hurt as much today, for some reason. All we've got left in here is a packet of out of date owl treats, and they're running out fast. At least Hedwig isn't completely starving._

_Last night was absolutely horrible. I still feel sick._

_There was a little boy, a baby and his mother. I was too late to see the father, but my guess is he's gone as well. The mother was definitely a witch – she recognised Voldemort as soon as he walked into the room. She tried to hide the boy in the cupboard, but I think that on top of everything else, Voldemort has an insane sense of smell. He got killed, just like the mother and the baby. He screamed the whole time._

_Ok – have to stop thinking… trying but not sure if it'll work. Anyway, this morning I had to paint the stupid shed again. I've got a black eye and Mrs. Figg noticed – she was fiddling with her apple trees on the other side of the back fence. Oh yeah I forgot one. This morning I got pushed down the stairs by Dudley and then pummelled by Uncle Vernon and nearly strangled because he said I was taking too long on the stairs. He'd find it difficult to walk too if he'd got a fractured leg bone. I'm not sure when that happened – it must have been yesterday sometime because it was sore when I woke up. It's really difficult to walk on and when I was painting the shed I had to lean on my good one and it went numb. When I tried to take a break I nearly got whacked with a frying pan. Again. Mrs. Figg asked some tricky questions – need to think up better excuses. Also need sleep but doesn't appear to be an option._

_Dear Diary,_

_I can't believe myself. I just can't believe it. Sirius and Professor Lupin came over today – just like I dreamed they would – and I didn't go with them. I can't believe I didn't go with them. I wanted to – I really, really did – but what about all the people who'd get in trouble then? Dumbledore doesn't want anyone else getting hurt  - that's why I'm at the Dursleys. That's why I told myself I wasn't going with them. _

_Was that right? I don't know anymore. I don't know anything. I just want everything to be easy again – not that it was ever easy. Maybe it was easy when I was a baby and with my parents. I wish I could remember that, except for the end bit. All I've got is that motorbike dream that I haven't had since before I came to Hogwarts. I really liked that dream, I wish it hadn't stopped. _

_I don't need a day for starvation, it's a constant fixture. I'm managing though. I'm nicking apples from Mrs. Figg's garden – and I'm promising myself I'll pay her back one day, if I even survive this insanity. Got belted again today for being late with the strawberries (yes, they're out of season, ask Dudley if you really want to know). It was because I was talking to Sirius and Lupin but I'm not going to tell my Uncle that. His firm's going a bit unstable; I think that's why he's so angry and drunk all the time. Sirius told me to take the Knight Bus if anything happens. Ha. Can you imagine me, on the Knight Bus in this state? Don't think so somehow._

_Dear Diary_

_Three weeks since Hermione's call. Looking back on what I wrote at the beginning, I've reached the final stage – getting beaten to death.  I look like a train-wreck. More like a mace-wreck. I keep the cupboard door closed so that I can't see myself in the mirror anymore. My back's the worst – I'm glad I can't see it properly. I have to lie on my side at night or it hurts more. _

_They don't feed me anymore until I'm actually sick. It makes whatever they give me taste absolutely disgusting, but I don't care because it's food. _

_I think I'm giving up. Why didn't I go with Sirius? Stupid stupid stupid! Dudley's been making threats – I'm making a conscious effort not to be left alone with him – not that Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia would try to stop him if he tried anyway. Only, I think he prefers to bully in private. _

Must go – my Aunt wants me to pick up the groceries… dunno if my shoulders can take anymore weight other than my head right now  - but, my loss I guess…

**Sorry it's short, but I didn't want to deprive you of an update for much longer. I know it's literally been about a month. We've got a long weekend coming up so I'll try and write then. In the meantime, please read From Age to Age the Same, and don't forget to review! 

Laterose**


	33. Making the OWLs Look Easy

Hello all, yes, I'm finally back, but only for a limited time I'm afraid. Sorry this chapter's so mega short, but luckily school has now finished and updates should be quicker in coming. (Mind you, I said that last time and it's been, what, a month?) Anyway, writing has become harder seeing as this fic is nearly finished and I'm working hard on the actual climax of the story and keep forgetting to write more of the build up and POST something!

Oh by the way, I'd like you to meet Robin and Adeline. They'll be appearing in my profile very soon.

Robin: Hi!!

Adeline: Push over.

They're my new muses/inspirational material/original story characters. 

Robin: Yes, thank you for the classification, I really needed that…

They started as a school project and now they're my best friends. Kinda. You'll be able to read about their adventures as soon as I've brushed up on the first 'chronicle' as it were…

Adeline: For 'chronicle' read 'twelve pages'…

All right, thank you smarty. Yes, well, here it is, anyway. Hope you like it. Thanks to all you great reviewers!!

"That must have been the day Hermione found him," said Sirius when Ron, with shaking hands, at last put down the diary. "She said he'd been carrying food."

No one said anything for a moment. Then Dumbledore said. "Thank you Ron. You may leave."

"What?" said Ron. "Aren't you even going to tell me what happens now?"

"I cannot tell you because I do not know," said Dumbledore.

Ron thought this over for a moment before getting up silently from his seat and leaving. Dumbledore took a bundle of paper from the inside of his desk, where the words Ron had spoken had been recorded. 

"Dumbledore -!" Remus started to protest, but the old wizard merely sighed and sat back in his chair. 

"What comes first?" he asked no one in particular. "Morality, or a boy's fate?"

………………………

When Ron returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, the party had already dispersed, the mood having lowered considerably after Anneka's outburst.  Neville was asleep in one of the armchairs; a first year girl appeared to have passed out on the girl's staircase. Shaking his head, Ron climbed the staircase to the fifth year boy's dormitory. 

He closed the door behind him as silently as was humanly possible. Dean and Seamus did not stir, but Harry – Harry sat bolt upright in bed. 

"Where've you been, Ron?" he asked, calmly. 

This was the test. This was the part when Ron found out whether he could lie to his own blood. 

"I…"

Harry's eyes were cold, and stared straight through him like ice rays. 

_He already knew._

Ron sank down onto his four poster with his head in his hands. "Oh god, Harry – they didn't give me any choice!"

"That's what Pettigrew said. 'Didn't have a choice…?' Come on, you can give me better than that!"

"Harry, I can't, I really can't!" The tears started to come then, piercing the film over his eyes and rolling over his eyelids. 

"I can't believe you," Harry sat, turning around in bed to face him. "You didn't even think to close the barrier. I heard you through the whole thing."

"What? But I did close it! I – "

Ron realised too late that this had been the wrong thing to say. 

"Oh, you did, did you? Didn't want me finding out? Well, I suppose you wouldn't want someone knowing you'd betrayed them –"

"Harry! They'd lock you up – you know that! As soon as the school year is over – they'd make you spend the summer in a _wizarding orphanage_!"

"So? Can't be much worse than the Dursleys."

"Harry, you're the Boy Who Lived! They'd never leave you alone after being in an orphanage! You KNOW I don't want that for you … I … I…!"

Seamus rolled over and they both froze. After a moment Ron spoke inside Harry's head. 

~ _You're my Blood Brother. I love you. I'd never do anything to hurt you. ~_

_Well, you have._

_~Harry – I'm sorry… ~_

_But… I guess I forgive you. _

_~I… what? ~_

_I guess you did what you thought was best for me, right?_

_~But you HATE it when people do that – you think that only YOU know what's best for you… ~_

_Yeah?_

_~Harry, I'm really, really… ~_

_Stop apologizing. You know that if we fight and never talk to one another again, we'll both die._

_~Still no reason for me to have done it… ~_

_Hey. I'm not going to end up in an orphanage, Ok? Dumbledore'll sort it. _

_~I believe you. ~_

_And he wouldn't have been able to do it without… I mean… it was stupid not telling him in the first place. But if someone had just _asked _me…_

_~I know. Maybe even Dumbledore makes mistakes. ~_

_That's a really BIG maybe. But you're right. _

_~Yes, he made a mistake sending you to the Dursleys in the first place. ~_

Let's not talk about it, ok? It was bad enough having to listen to you… 

_~Ok, ok, I get it. Goodnight. ~_

Some while later, Harry heard:

_~Harry? Let's not fight. I don't want to die. ~_

_Don't worry. Neither of us are going to die._

Unseen to each other behind the curtains of their four posters, both of them reached up to touch the wooden headboards.

………………………………

Before anyone knew it, Halloween was upon them. In desperate need of some celebration to secure their sanity, Harry and Ron started celebrating three days early, using their newly enhanced powers in ways that Hermione most severely disapproved of. 

"Really!" she exclaimed on the evening of the 29th, after extracting a Gryffindor third year from the wall in the common room, which appeared to have turned into upright jelly. "You two are supposed to be _prefects_, and Halloween is hardly an excuse for this sort of behaviour…"

"Oh, come off it, Hermione," Ron yawned, leaning back into the soft confines of an armchair. "We deserve a bit of fun – _you_ might be enjoying all this OWL build up, but I'm most certainly not."

"Join the club," said Harry, an unusual wide grin on his face. "He's right Hermione. Look, it'll all stop after tomorrow. Promise."

"That's a whole day," Hermione pointed out worriedly, before shaking her head and climbing the stairs to the girl's dormitories, after checking that no one else had gotten stuck in the walls since she'd looked away. 

They were now alone in the common room. With a snap of one hand, Harry restored the walls to their original stone state. "Show off," Ron complained. Harry laughed and lifted the hand slowly. Ron looked around to see what he was moving before realising that he was no longer in the chair. "Hey!" he yelled. "Put me down!"

Harry couldn't help it. He dissolved into hysterics, rolling around on the floor, whereupon Ron promptly transformed and flew down to tug at his hair hard with his bird-of-prey beak. 

"Watch it!" Harry yelled. "Those claws are sharp!"

"They are not claws, they're talons," said Ron, switching back and standing up in human form. "As you should well know, Monsignor Jetwing."

Harry said something very rude and went up to bed. 

888

On Halloween morning the castle was as alive as usual. Harry and Ron were up early, as was also usual, and went down to breakfast before most of the teachers, who hailed them as they came in, except Professor Snape, who was once more absent. 

"All right, you two?" said Wendy, coming over to their table. "Up early again, I see."

"Too right," said Ron, rubbing his eyes. "I mean, I knew there were downsides to Harry's life, but I never thought the worst of them would be having to get up at four every day…"

Harry punched him at the disapproving look in Wendy's eyes. "He's exaggerating," he said quickly. 

"I most certainly hope so," said Professor McGonagall, who came up behind Wendy as they were talking. "I trust you used the extra time to prepare for the Transfiguration exam you have today, boys?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Yes, Professor," said Ron quickly. 

"Oh, definitely," Harry added. "Couldn't leave the books alone."

Professor McGonagall left. Wendy raised one eyebrow. 

"Completely forgot," Ron continued, out of McGonagall's hearing. "Didn't give it a single thought."

Harry was about to add his fair share but couldn't due to suppressed laughter. 

"Oh, you _two_," Wendy sighed, and went over to the staff table. Harry noticed, not for the first time, that she was sitting in the ornate chair he had transfigured from a pin on his first week back at Hogwarts. 

"Like you're going to have a problem," Ron said. "Mr. I'm-Growing-Up-To-Be-Just-Like-My-Father… you should start a club with Draco –"

"Don't even THINK the words," Harry cried, stuffing his fingers in his ears. 

~Malfoy~, Ron finished, silently. Harry swore. 

"Language, Harry," said Hermione, dropping into the seat beside him, looking dishevelled, but happy. 

"What're you grinning about?" Ron asked her, before she dumped a crisp new copy of the _Daily Prophet_ into Harry's lap. Harry looked at it. 

"Let's get out of here," he mumbled. 

"What?" Ron said, suddenly looking worried. "What's it say?"

"Let's just get out of here," said Harry, grabbing a slice of toast and wrapping it in a serviette. "I'll show you outside."

As they rushed out of the Great Hall, they missed the worried look on Wendy's face. 

888

"But that's _good_ isn't it?" Hermione was still insisting half an hour later, when they'd been over the article a hundred times. "The Dursleys in prison with a fine, you taken off the endangered list… I mean, what else did you want?"

"I can't believe Dumbledore did this to me," Harry moaned. "I still can't."

Ron looked back at the paper, where extracts from Harry's journal were outlined in bold and described as _terrifying evidence._ "This is all my fault," he said quietly. No one heard him. 

"I mean, all right, maybe they should have got more than a couple of years between them," Hermione was busy admitting. "But you've got to admit it's a pretty hefty fine – and it says they're discussing who gets custody of you now, see?"

"I'm fifteen, Hermione," Harry retorted. "I've only got three years of being 'custody' _left_… besides, I don't even _know_ half those people, and there's _tons _of them…"

"We know _most _of them," Hermione told him, flicking through the list of suitable candidates to foster Harry Potter. "Look, Albus Dumbledore at the top of the list…"

"No thanks," Harry muttered. "Not after what –"

"Mundungus Fletcher, Arabella Figg –"

"Never heard of her."

"Oh, don't you ever _read_, Harry? Hey – wait…."

"What?"

Hermione's eyes widened as she drew her face closer to the paper. "Harry… who's Alula Black?"

888

"I thought it sounded familiar," said Hermione, finally, after Harry had gotten through the explanation for the second time and they were lining up outside Charms. "I hadn't forgotten."

"Sure," said Ron, rolling his eyes as the door swung open by magic and they all filed in. 

"Now, now," said Professor Flitwick in his normal squeaky voice, "just because it's Halloween doesn't mean you're all on holiday!" Harry might have imagined it, but he thought he saw the small man's eyes flicker towards him for a moment. "Today we will be focussing on the mirror charm…"

"Damn," Harry whispered to Ron. "The one spell I could never get right…"

"Boys, is there something you'd like to share with us?"

"No sir," came a murmuring from various areas of the class, which didn't just include Harry and Ron. Hermione banged her head on the table.  

"Now, normally this spell would only appear on N.E.W.T practicals, but I have been informed by the exam board that the mirror charm will appear on the theory side, if not the practical side, of you O.W.L papers," Flitwick continued. "Ahem, if you'd all, ah, like to turn to page three hundred and seventeen…"

They did so. It took perhaps three quarters of an hour to read up and copy the chapter on the mirror charm, before Flitwick announced it was time to try and test the spell out, to 'get the feel of it'. 

"Ahm… you said you couldn't do this?" Ron asked Harry, again, looking worriedly at the criteria. 

"Wendy said it was just a block…"

"Bloody weird place to put a block if you ask me…" Ron muttered before Hermione shushed him. 

Harry struggled to remember everything Wendy had told him about the mirror charm as he looked really deeply into Ron's eyes. Taking in every aspect of his face. He waved his wand ever so slightly, whispered the words, and pointed. Nothing happened. 

Suddenly the barrier between their minds was gently dropped, just as though Ron was about to say something to him. Instead, Harry stared as Ron's hair turned black and messy, his eyes green, his face leaner, and his freckles faded into a slightly paler skin than was usual. Harry was staring into his own face. And, from the look this new Harry was giving him, so was Ron. 

Hermione, who had been staring fixatedly at Neville Longbottom with only a slightly disgusted expression on her face, turned around to find Ron sitting next to her. "Hey!" she said. "Why'd you…" she'd been about to say 'change places', but a couple of things clicked all at once and instead she said "you DID it!"

"Yes!" cried Flitwick. "Look, everyone! Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley have done it!"

"Aw sir," said Seamus, sounding disbelieving. "How do you know they didn't just switch places?"

_You cheated,_ said Harry. 

~_Oh no I didn't. I just made it a bit easier. ~ _Ron fought.

_Er, so what happens when he asks us to do it with **someone else**?_

Good question… 

Luckily, Professor Flitwick did not have time to ask them to do any such thing, as the bell rang just at that moment. He _also_ didn't ask Harry and Ron to switch back, so they didn't. 

"We're going to _potions_," Hermione reminded them after break, in which they'd succeeded in thoroughly confusing both Filch _and _Mrs. Norris. "You can't stay like that!"

"Why not?" Ron, who looked like Harry, asked. "It's just _Snape_, I mean, he doesn't have to _know_ or anything." 

"Oh Harry – I mean, Ron, look, do you _honestly_ think he won't be able to tell the difference?"

"Er, yes?" said Harry, who was at the moment bearing a significant resemblance to Ron. "Look Hermione, we'll change back after dinner, ok? Dumbledore deserves a scare after making my private things visible to the public…"

"And how do you propose to do _that_?" Hermione demanded. "You're _Ron, for heavens sake."_

"Only until this evening," Harry promised.

Hmm, I want to do more but I know you're all dying for a chapter, so I think I'll just post this now and move on to FAtAtS.

**Robin: And that's…**

**From Age to Age the Same of course! Dunderhead.**

**Robin: Gee sorry. **

**If you'd like to be notified when I update, simply join the Yahoo group for this site, the link for which is in my profile. Thanks – and remember to review!! **


	34. Elves, Men, and Death Eaters

**Ha! Told you I'd be quick, didn't I? Didn't I? **Checks** ok, maybe I didn't. But I _was_. Confused? It's going to get worse. Just remember for the next bit that Harry's Ron and Ron's Harry.  Sorry about the clichéd-ness at the beginning, but I had to tie up some loose ends and couldn't really work out how to do it properly.**

**NB: I was listening to Terry Pratchett while I wrote the majority of this, so the writing might have a certain sarcastic quality to it… **

Snape was late. The class chattered unconcerned to themselves for a while, before the door opened and in skipped Wendy. 

"Morning, you lot!" she trilled. "Unfortunately Professor Snape has been detained, and while I'm sure he's missing all of you _dreadfully_," most of the class sniggered, "he is, at this moment in time, unable to attend this lesson."

"Aw, what a shame," said Dean, making all of the Gryffindors laugh. 

"Quite, Dean, quite. Righto… where'd the old vampire put his lesson plans?" Wendy dug into the desk drawers and pulled out a neat stack of paper, which she preceded to scatter all over the desktop. 

"Ah. Er… says here, you're meant to be brewing the 'Insania' potion. Goodness, that sounds cheerful." A few people chuckled. "Ahm, apparently, it's supposed to fill you with inspiration for a few minutes. The best friend of authors and artists everywhere. Right, well, open your books to page three hundred and four, and ready, get set, go!"

"Mad," Harry heard Malfoy say from across the room. "My father told me she was in exile for quite some time… probably lost her marbles a while back…"

"Can I hear talking, Mr. Malfoy?" Wendy called from behind the desk. "That's not the behaviour I'd expect from a prefect. Ten points from Slytherin!"

Harry sniggered. Malfoy rounded on him. "Think something's funny, Weasley?"

"Not at all… _Draco_," Harry simpered. Ron choked as he dropped the octopus tentacle onto the desk. 

"What about you, Potter?"

"Oh, nothing whatsoever," said Ron. "I didn't say a word."

"You were in the paper again this morning, weren't you, Potter?" Malfoy said to Ron, his normally pale face rapidly turning red. "Did the nasty Muggles get locked away? What's going to happen to you now, d'you think? Reckon _Weasley_'ll take you in? Ha, think again, Potter. They haven't got enough gold to support a dormouse, let alone another human being…"

"Whoa, Malfoy, what's that hanging out of your nose?" Harry said quickly, to prevent Ron from jumping on the smaller boy. 

Malfoy's hand was halfway to his face before a smirk played across his lips. "Please, _Weasley_," he sneered. "As though I would fall for something like _that._"

"Oh, all right then," said Harry. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

Harry and Ron turned away, but not before Ron sneaked a last glance at Malfoy, who was surreptitiously trying to see his reflection in his cauldron without anyone noticing. 

"Well done," whispered Hermione in relief.

"Don't get too comfortable," Ron growled, pushing black hair out of his eyes for the hundredth time. "I was just about ready to pound his little rat features into the floor." 

"May I remind you that you're now practically the same height as him, Ron," said Hermione.

"Oh, you don't need to," said Ron, chucking beetles eyes haphazardly into the cauldron, which was on a moderate heat and climbing. "I nearly tripped over my own feet climbing the stairs. Harry – you _really _need to get a haircut, pal."

Harry laughed lightly at Ron's attempts to keep his hair behind his ears. They worked in silence for a while, before Ron said: "Harry? Why don't I need glasses?"

"Sorry?"

"Well, the only reason _you_ don't need glasses anymore is because the shield that you've got up all the time evens out your prescription, right? But even though I'm in _your _body, you're still the one with the shields. So how come I can still see properly?"

Hermione stared at him. "Did you come up with that all by yourself?"

"Yeah," said Ron, proudly, grinning at her. 

"Well…" said Harry, thinking about it. "This is the way I understand it. We haven't really swapped bodies – that's sort of what a polyjuice potion does. What it _actually _means is that we only _look_ like we're in each other's bodies. Like… er…" he pointed to the scar in the centre of Ron's forehead. "Like my scar. It looks like _you've _got it, but that's really only an illusion of it. It's still here…" he pointed to his own forehead, "under your illusion. And even though it _looks _like I've got blue eyes, they're still green. Underneath. And the shields that I'm putting up are still evening out my vision, and if I took them down I'd still need glasses."

This time it was his turn to be stared at. 

"Something like that anyway," he added. 

Ron grinned. "Did you come up with that all by yourself?" 

Before either Harry could answer, or Hermione could do anything of considerable damage to Ron, Professor Little called Ron up to the front of the classroom. Hermione motioned Harry to move, and he almost tripped over the bench in his haste to cover up his hesitation. 

"Well," Wendy said, as soon as he was out of earshot of the rest of the class. "I see you finally mastered the mirror charm."

Harry gaped at her. "How…?"

"Oh, nothing special. It comes with being Witch."

Harry thought about that for a moment. "But Hermione's a witch, and she couldn't tell. So are all the other girls in the school."

"Not _a_ witch. Witch. With a capital W. It's a more polite way of saying sorceress."

"_WHAT?_" 

"Shut up. It's not that big a deal. It just means I've got elvish blood, ok?"

Harry stared. 

"Look, forget it. I shouldn't have let that slip – it just means I see – and do – things differently from other people."

And that was true, Harry realised. She could see through the mirror charm. She knew the results of experiments that had never before been tested. In Harry;s first week back, she had apparated across the classroom even though it was supposed to impossible to apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds. And last month… hadn't she used the disarming charm to summon Harry's wand from his pocket. That shouldn't have worked… but still… _elves_…

"Do elves exist?"

"Of course they don't!" Wendy hissed, looking over his shoulder to check if anyone was listening. "Except for House Elves anyway, and they're barely… I mean… they _used_ to. And then they bred with humans and died out. There's only one other one left, that's descended from… from _them_." She sighed and narrowed her eyes at him. "And all I wanted to do was congratulate you on managing that charm."

Harry laughed. "Well, you did that."

"You got a significant amount of points, I suppose – assuming you did this under supervised conditions."

"Yeah, Flitwick gave us twenty each."

"Take an extra ten, for overcoming that block. Now go back and continue bullying the hell out of Malfoy."

Harry turned to go back to his seat, before looking back at her. "You're House-ist, d'you know that?"

"Of course," said Wendy. "Who isn't?" This time even Harry could tell she was joking. 

"What did little _Little_ have to say to you, Weasley?" Malfoy sneered when Harry sat back down behind the cauldron. Harry thought about this before answering. 

"Do you know, Malfoy – that must be the worst play on words I've ever heard in my whole life?"

888

After lunch, Hermione, Ron and Harry (in theory) made their way up three flights of stairs to Transfiguration. They'd seen the teachers in the Great Hall but hadn't approached anyone, and Harry and Ron, after long, sporting conversations with Dean, Seamus, Fred, George and everyone else who happened to be listening, had somewhat got the hang of answering to each other's names. Dean and Seamus had helpfully forgotten about the mirror charm, as had pretty much everyone else. It helped that they'd both been able to see their reflections in most of the tuppelware. Harry had never really noticed this before but it had sure come in useful a few times back there when he was on the verge of a slip-up.

"Stairs, stairs, stairs," Ron complained as they climbed the third and final flight. "This place is _made _of stairs."

"You say that at least five times a day, you realise," said Hermione, glancing vaguely up the corridor to where most of the remaining fifth year Gryffindors were lining up outside McGonagall's classroom. 

It didn't look much different when they got inside. The walls were still a slightly navy shade of blue, the desks still odd animal shapes. 

The lesson progressed in much the same way as the last one had – they were studying ratios of how small things could be before they could stop being transformed into larger things, and vice versa. None of this meant very much to Harry, who'd been able to transfigure a pin into an armchair before anyone had taught him about reason. That was the thing about learning from Wendy. She expected you to be able to do anything – so you did. 

Hermione, and most of the other girls, disappeared when they got back to the common room, just like they did every afternoon. Harry filled Ron in on what Wendy had said in Potions. Ron didn't seem incredibly surprised. 

"Well, I knew they'd have had to exist at some point," he said. "I mean, where do house elves come from?" 

Harry grimaced. 

"Oh shut up. But… it means she must have… I dunno… raw power?"

Harry thought about this. "But if Wendy has it, wouldn't that mean Sirius…"

"Are you mad? Elves are _girls_. Could you imagine someone like Sirius harnessing raw power?"

"Wendy said there was one other."

"Well, it'd be a girl then. Unless it's you."

Harry threw a cushion at him.

Harry and Ron sat in the common room for a while, hovering over their homework without actually doing anything. "What do they do up there?" Ron wondered, vaguely. 

"No idea," said Harry, trying to focus on his essay. He was starting to work up a headache, and it was annoying him beyond belief.

"I mean, brushing your hair doesn't take _that_ long, even if you're a girl…" 

Harry noticed Ron rubbing at his – _Harry_'s – forehead. 

"Headache?" Harry asked. 

"Mm. You?"

"Yeah…"

They looked at each other. 

"Haven't you two started yet?" it was Hermione, coming down the staircase with her bag slung over one shoulder. 

"No."

Hermione sighed. "How you two think you're going to pass your OWLs I'll never know."

888

People were whispering in the entrance hall when they got down. This wasn't unusual, not for Hogwarts, but Harry became slightly suspicious when Wendy came running towards them. "What's he _doing_?" she hissed. 

"What?"

"Remus, you idiot!"

"I don't know – what are you talking about?"

Wendy appeared to accept this. "He's in there, sitting calm as anything – with that, that… _guest_ of Dumbledore's."

"Guest?"

"Yes – you know that enchanted dog people were all gabbling on about? Well, turns out Dumbledore found a cure. The man's…" she paused for the use of a better word than what she had originally been meaning to say. "An _unspeakable_. Found someway to trap darkness in one place," she lowered her voice, "which sounds jolly clever but actually makes him look more like a Dement –"

She realised suddenly that she was talking to thin air and turned to see the two boys running at top speed into the Great Hall, with Hermione not far behind. "-or," she finished, never one to let a sentence go to waste.

Harry skidded to a halt when he saw the Head table for himself. "It's _true_," he hissed, as the three of them sidled around the Hufflepuff table to Dumbledore's end. 

They weren't the only ones trying to get close enough to talk to Remus. Several of the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students in third year and over were heading over for a chat, though Harry noticed that they, unconsciously or not, always stood on Remus' right, because on the left sat Sirius, complete with black cloak and hood. He was still – Harry's mind could only supply the word _faceless- and leant back in his chair, observing the students. _

"So," said Harry, when they got close enough to talk without anyone listening. "What're you doing down here?"

"Story is, I'm here visiting Wendy," said Remus. "It's no secret that we were friends back in school."

"No one told her."

"Sorry?"

"No one told her you were… _visiting_."

Remus laughed, if a little nervously. "Surprised, was she?"

"Furious."

"Fair enough. You all right, Harry? You're being a bit quiet."

Harry looked up at Ron. _Say something, can't you? They think you're me!_

_~Like what? ~_

_Ask Sirius what he's doing here, there's a start._

"What're you doing here?" Ron repeated. 

"Oh, was that all you were worried about?" said Sirius, in a voice that was not his own – he'd managed to lower it several octaves and he rasped as he spoke. "Well, the truth is, we haven't had any word from Snape since yesterday morning. Dumbledore's afraid there might be some kind of action tonight, so we all have to be –"

Remus punched him in the elbow. Luckily, only half the staff was seated, so no one else had heard Sirius' words. 

"It's only a very small chance," said Remus to Ron. "Nothing for you to worry about, Harry."

"Sure," said Harry as they made their way through the excited, chattering students to the Gryffindor table. "Like the attack on that school was nothing to worry about. If we faint in the middle of the feast…"

Dumbledore stood up as the rest of the students and faculty filed in. "Happy Halloween, everyone!" he announced. No where on his face could Harry see signs of worry, but he knew by now that this proved nothing – if anything, it was a bad sign. 

Harry knew it was coming at the exact point that the food was cleared away. The teachers had started to look relaxed, even Sirius was leaning back contentedly in his chair and gazing (though it was hard to tell) at the ceiling. 

He knew that Ron had felt it too, he could sense it without having to look at the pained, scrunched up expression or the clenched fists_. You'll have to tell them,_ Harry told him, his scar, while not visible, leaving prickles along his forehead that made him want to rip his skin clean off.

_~Why me?~_

_Because you're me, and they won't listen to me, that's why!_

_~You mean I'm you and they won't listen to me.~_

_Whatever. Do it!_

Ron stood up. "Sir –" he tried to say, but had to take a deep breath as pain shot along both his head and his hand – he was feeling Harry's pain.  The hall went quiet. "They're coming," he finally managed. The hall was silent.

Dumbledore stood. "All students against the walls, please," he announced in a clear voice. The main student body obeyed – Harry suddenly felt his arm in a tight grip.

"Come along, Mr. Weasley."

"But –!"

"Come now," said Professor McGonagall, dragging him towards the far wall. Harry could see Ron in Harry's body being patted on the shoulder by the Headmaster as the remaining teachers, Wendy, Remus and Sirius formed a human wall in front of the students. Dumbledore lifted his hands. The tables disappeared, and in front of Harry was… a shield. A blue shield, streaked with silver. It encompassed the entire hall, trapping the students against the wall. A first year touched it, and screamed as it burnt his finger. Professor McGonagall called him and all the other first years to her – Harry only had eyes for what was happening behind the shield. Ron was out there. Wendy was looking like she was trying to explain Ron and Harry's situation to Dumbledore when…

The doors burst open. __

888

The Death Eater's gaze swept over the room until, at the centre, he saw what he was looking for. Dumbledore, some teachers, Little, Lupin, Potter and a man whose face was shrouded stood in a protective circle. Behind them and to the sides, a huge, blue-silver shield kept the other students and teachers at bay. 

Potter stood forward, with a sideways glance to where… was that _Ron_? was banging on the shield with both fists, oblivious to the pain it must be causing him. Alula… he hadn't seen her for a long time… was frantically whispering to Dumbledore, who looked tired  - he was obviously the one holding up the shield.

He stepped forward to meet Potter, who had an odd expression on his face. It looked as though he was trying to work something out. 

"What do you want?" the boy asked, slowly. There was a resonance in his voice that suggested… fear?

"Not you," he said, taking care to muffle his voice behind the hood. "Not this time."

"If you think you can just waltz in here and take something, you've got another thing coming," said Alula from behind Potter. 

"Ah," he said, as the Death Eaters came in and fanned out around the room. "But that's where you're wrong, I'm afraid." He laughed. "A simple blue-silver shield? What do you think I am, Dumbledore?"

He threw back his hood. It was Peter Pettigrew. 

888

"YOU!" 

Remus had to launch himself onto Sirius to prevent him jumping on Pettigrew. 

"Me."

Harry, from behind the shield, watched Wendy's face carefully. She did nothing, merely stood there in complete and utter shock. 

"If you don't want H – me," said Ron, clenching his fists in anger, "who are you here for?"

"Sir!" one of the Death Eaters called out. "Over here."

"Sir?" Remus spat, still holding tightly to Sirius shoulders, his werewolf strength all that was keeping his friend from running into certain death. "Well, well, Peter, it looks like you finally managed to commandeer some respect among your peers…"

Wendy looked at Remus, as Pettigrew moved over to where the Death Eater had called him. 

"Remus… how…?"

Pettigrew laughed. "You mean you don't know?" he chuckled, his eyes roving over the terrified students. "You've been trusting them since August and you still don't _know_?"

"You… you… Peter?"

"Aha!" Peter, it seemed, had found what he was looking for. Without a moment's hesitation he thrust his silver hand through Dumbledore's shield. It disappeared for a split second before flickering back to life again as Dumbledore himself sank to his knees. But it was too late – Peter had Sarah Pordell by the collar. 

"SARAH!" Harry yelled from the other side of the hall pounding on the blue light with everything he had. Hermione grabbed onto his arm. 

"Harry, please!" 

Suddenly he realised – if Pettigrew could do it, so could he… taking a deep breath he reached into the shield… it let him through. His veins sparkled with fire for a brief second but before his brain could register it as pain he was in front of the shield and could see Pettigrew clearly for the first time. 

Sarah, dangling limply from Pettigrew's arms, seemed to have fainted from the sheer pain of being dragged through a shield that was too strong for her. 

888

"Let her go, Pettigrew," Peter heard a voice say. It didn't sound angry. It didn't sound brave. It didn't come from Potter. Standing just outside the shield was Ron, and he was crouched in a fighting stance. 

"I don't think so, Ron," Peter said. "You appear to have made a mistake. In case you haven't noticed, _I _have fifty death eaters on my side and you've got a few old teachers and a few hundred children. I doubt that this time Potter will be able to save as many as sixteen."

"You bastard," Ron spat from in front of him. 

"Language, Harry."

"I'm NOT Harry!"

"And I'm not Ron," said Harry, taking three, purposeful steps forward. "I'm afraid it's _you_ who's made the mistake this time round, Peter."

The Death Eaters started whispering to each other, looking as confused as one can look when hidden behind a mask, and Pettigrew's rat-like eyes flickered between Harry and Ron. 

"What –?" Something in front of Peter exploded, sending him reeling back a few feet. As one, the Death Eater's drew their wands. 

"What was _that_?" Pettigrew growled, getting to his feet. 

"An illusion, Peter," said Harry, coming even closer to become level with Ron. "Just like your so called power."

_Take it off_,  he told Ron silently. 

~_You're the boss.~_

Both Harry and Ron's images melted away, and they were suddenly revealed as being… each other. 

They drew their wands. 

"You're insane!" Peter squeaked, drawing his own wand and keeping a tight hold on the unconscious Sarah as the Death Eaters closed in. "You can't win!"

"Bet you a galleon?" said Harry, coldly, before the two of them raised their wands and the hall was suddenly bathed in blue and silver light, before turning pure silver, and then white. When it died away, the shield protecting the students was pure silver, Dumbledore was on his feet, and anyone was old and experienced enough to fight was standing at the ready, both in front and behind the Death Eaters. 

The fight began. 

Oooh, cliffie! Well, I spent nearly all day writing this, so BE PLEASED! And if you're not – tell me! If you are – tell me!!!

**~*Laterose*~**


	35. The Fight Part One

**Right. I have a cup of tea, and I have biscuits. Chapter, you're mine.**

Harry went for Pettigrew, but he was soon lost beneath a sea of black robes that circled around to protect him. Obviously no one wanted to be responsible for the death of Voldemort's new right hand man. Instead he found himself surrounded by Death Eaters, totally unable to see Ron, Sirius, or any of his teachers. 

_~Harry! ~ _said Ron's voice inside his head. ~_Get OVER here! ~_

_Where are you?_

_~To your right! ~_

Harry ducked three spells (which collided above his head with a noise that made the floor vibrate) and blasted a path to his right. Madam Hooch was down, as were two of the students Harry and Ron had released from the shield. 

Ron himself was standing back to back with Fred and George, together making an unbreakable threesome as they moved towards Harry and Professor Dumbledore, who was standing quite still, not too far away. He was attacking no one – the spells repelled off him and shot their owners – usually in the face, sending them head over backside into the floor.

Everyone except Harry, Ron and (supposedly) Professor Dumbledore were making do with small hexes and curses that could be performed in a hurry without much effort. Stunners, Impediment hexes and fire charms laced the air with coloured beams of light. Harry used both hands to send Death Eaters flying towards the walls – or rather, the shield he and Ron had created, which burnt them so badly that they were not fit to rejoin the fight.

Fred and George closed up as Ron ran and ducked over to Harry. Back to back they moved deeper into the centre of the melee, half thinking, half yelling curses as they searched for Peter – and Sarah, whose black plaits had been lost to sight when Pettigrew dived for cover.

But someone else got there first. 

"PETTIGREW!" came Sirius' voice from somewhere ahead. "GIVE – HER – BACK!"

Sarah screamed – she was awake. Suddenly forgetting all point of strategy, Harry blasted his way through the remained wall of Death Eaters to see…

Pettigrew was holding Sarah by both arms out in front of him, like a shield. Backed up against the door-side of Harry and Ron's shield were Sirius, Remus and Wendy. Sirius still had his hood up and Remus was holding him firmly by the arm and whispering fervently to him. The expression on Wendy's face was impossible to read from this distance, but Harry supposed that inside she was more confused than she had ever been in her entire life.

As soon as Harry and Ron were within metres of Pettigrew, all movement ceased. The Death Eaters stopped fighting, as though at some unspoken command. 

"Get behind me, you imbeciles," Pettigrew hissed. They moved slowly but deliberately. Harry suppressed a shudder as the hem of a black cloak brushed his ankle, but he remembered what Wendy had taught him. He would not fight unless his opponent was fighting back.

Soon Pettigrew once again stood at the head of his mini-army, although various black-robed figures still lay stunned on the tiles of Great Hall. It was a stand off. The two sides stared at each other over the marble tiles. 

"Give her back, Peter," said Remus calmly, still hanging on to Sirius with his free hand. 

"I don't _think_ so actually," said Peter, "You see, she's very, very important to my master and he really would rather she was by his side…"

"HARRY!" Sarah screamed. The sound cut through Harry like a knife, but Sarah could no longer scream – Pettigrew had a hand over her mouth. 

"Sarah," Wendy called. "Listen to me. You have the power of the elves. You can do whatever you want to do, understand?" 

Sarah struggled in Pettigrew's grasp, but he only laughed and held her tighter. Slowly he tucked on stand of hair behind her ear.

"You're sick!" Ron yelled, unable to stop himself. "You're just sick! Let her go – what is she to you?"

"Alula said it herself," said Peter. "She has the elven blood – and she's the very last one, you see? Her good-for-nothing mother's been killed…"

Suddenly Peter was thrown backwards by some invisible force, for the second time, into the ranks of his Death Eaters, who caught him. He hadn't managed to hold on to Sarah as much as last time and she stood perfectly still where she had been struggling before, a faint blue light glowing around her. Wendy held out her arms and she ran into them, sobbing. 

"Peter!" Wendy screamed. "I can't believe this – you _traitor_!"

"Sticks and stones, Ali," said Peter, rising from the floor. His face was red with anger, but it did nothing to rival Wendy's face at those words. 

"How DARE you call me that!" Wendy yelled. "And all this time I felt sorry for you!" Suddenly she appeared to realise something and her skin paled. "Sirius…"

Peter laughed again. "That's right," he sniggered in an ugly manner that seemed to give him the texture of slime.  "You've hated the wrong man for fourteen years, Alula. Turn around and look into your brother's eyes."

Alula whipped around to come face to face with Remus and Sirius. Sirius did not look at her. Instead, he took one step forward and ripped off his cloak and hood. Various students who had not heard the exchange or did not understand it, screamed. Wendy looked as though she was about to faint. 

"_You_…?"

"It's time for a reckoning," Sirius said. "Let go, Remus."

"No way," said Remus. Sirius turned to look at him, astounded. Remus smiled, and also took a step forward. "You're dead, Peter."

"You're insane!" Peter yelled. "I have an army!" 

"You've got all that power," said Remus, quietly. "Surely you can take the two of us in a wizards duel? It's only fair."

A Death Eater whispered something in Pettigrew's ear but he waved him off.  "I _know_ what the master said," said Pettigrew. "I'm sure he won't mind if I indulge myself. Black's been a thorn in his side for a while now, anyway." He turned back to the two men. "Very well then," he said in a bored voice. "One against two. No one will interfere."

"What are they _doing_?" Ron hissed. "Aren't you going to stop them?"

"It is their right," said Harry, wishing he wasn't saying it. The two of them ought to be able to take him. I trust Sirius."

"What if they can't?"

"If they can't…" Harry fingered his wand in his pocket delicately. "Then someone is going to get their arse kicked."

- - - 

The first shot came without a warning. Sirius ducked, the curse just managing to singe his hair. "You'll find I'm a lot better at duelling than you remember," said Peter with a demonic grin. Remus returned the shot, but a blue/silver shield instantly went up around the shorter man, repelling the curse so that Remus had to dive out of the way, giving Pettigrew an opening.

"_Locomotor Mortis_!" 

Sirius slid forward on the floor to avoid the spell. "You're playing children's games, Peter!"

_"Houndicastras!" _

Three very large and obviously insane Labradors sprung from the end of Pettigrew's wand. Instantly Sirius transformed and stood in front of Remus. The dogs rushed him, but Padfoot was larger and threw them off, whereupon they all dissolved in midair.

Remus climbed back to his feet and the three of them circled each other carefully. Harry's nerves were stretched to breaking point, more than anything he desperately wanted someone to break the silence. 

Suddenly Pettigrew took a step back – and yet… stayed where he was. Harry's mind could not make sense of it for a moment – how could there be two of them? But there were. Standing in front of Pettigrew was a silver replica of himself, looking both solid and insubstantial. The light caught its skin and clothing, blinding everyone who stood before it. Harry had just enough time to throw up a darkening shield to see Sirius shield his eyes as the real Pettigrew pointed his wand at Remus. 

_"Avada Kedavra_!"

Wendy screamed – so did several other people – as Remus fell to the ground, wand under him. 

"NO!" yelled Harry, running forward and slamming into something hard that he couldn't even see. 

"Ah, ah, ah, Harry," Pettigrew taunted, backing off slowly with the silver replica still just in front of him. "No interference, please."

"REMUS!" Sirius yelled, half running, half tripping over to his friend. He sat there for a second. Harry watched him. Sirius looked up at him, and then – so that none of the Death Eaters could see - he winked. 

He turned to Pettigrew. "You bastard!" he yelled, eyes bright and angry. "You've killed them all now, haven't you? James, Lily, and now Remus! Well, why don't you just finish the job?"

"Sirius!" Harry yelled, pounding his fists on the invisible wall that didn't burn his hands but was as hard as rock, "what are you DOING?"

"Kill me!" Sirius yelled at Peter. "Go on! Just kill me now, why don't you?"

Sirius spread his arms wide. Peter did nothing. 

"What?" said Sirius. "Are you afraid?" Sirius stepped closer. "Well, you always were afraid, weren't you, Wormtail? You never really knew what bravery was, did you? The brave ones were always James, or me, or even Remus – and now look at us! Look – at what YOU'VE done to us!"

Peter's eyes were flickering between Sirius and Wendy, who still held Sarah in her arms. They both looked terrified. "Give me the girl!" he snarled. 

"You loved her!" Sirius suddenly yelled. "You loved her, you bastard! Julianne Pordell! I remember you pining over her in fifth year – you wrote her love letters! And you let her die without even turning a hair, didn't you? Just like Lily and James! And WHAT – HAVE – YOU – GOT – OUT – OF – IT?" 

"Give – me – the – girl!" Peter repeated!

"She could have been your daughter!" Sirius yelled. "If you'd have been thinner, taller maybe. Less rat-like," he sneered. "That little girl could have been yours! And you're just going to hand her over? You've robbed her of a decent childhood! Just like Harry!" he pointed at the two boys behind the wall – Ron was now staring openly at the scene while trying to hold Harry back. "You know – just because your childhood was a piece of crap doesn't mean everyone else's has to be!"

Peter turned, slowly, to look Sirius in the eye. 

"Did you see those pictures of Harry, Peter?" Sirius yelled. "Remind you of anything, did they? Oh yes, I remember. And don't think plenty of other people here don't remember! Your father was a pureblood wizard who robbed you of everything James had, right? Of everything HARRY AND SARAH COULD HAVE HAD!!!! I saw the scars, I saw the bruises!"

Sirius was walking closer with every sentence; he and Peter were only a few metres apart now. "WHAT ARE YOU FIGHTING FOR, PETER?" Sirius continued. "ARE YOU HOPING THAT VOLDEMORT WILL GIVE YOU EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANTED? You _told _me what you wanted, remember? That day in the hospital wing?" Sirius imitated a high squeaky voice. "Oh, Sirius, James! I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I didn't want you to think I was useless! All I really want is a family who loves me!" His voice lowered to a growl, Sirius took the final step. "So? Did you get it?"

Peter raised his silver hand. "_Avada Kedavra!_ "

"NO!" screamed Harry, bursting through the invisible wall and throwing out a hand, which emitted a silver ray of light that connected with Pettigrew's in midair. The heat and power was intensifying, Harry thought his brain was about to expode… but he was winning, Pettigrew was weakening….

"Ah… Mr. Potter…" Oh God, not now! 

_~Harry? Who is it? ~_

_It's _him_…___

Voldemort was helping Peter – somehow, Pettigrew was fighting back. One of the Death Eaters had its hand on Pettigrew's shoulder, and when Harry looked closely, behind the hood were shining a pair of glowing red eyes…

"Harry, STOP!" yelled Wendy, throwing Sarah into McGonagall's hands and trying to reach Harry through the horde of Death Eaters that were suddenly surrounding the battle. "It's HIM!"

"I KNOW who it is!" Harry yelled out. The pain was intensifying; it was spreading from his scar to his neck, to his torso and still moving. _Oh God, this is it, he thought grimly. _This – is – it.__

_~Not if I can help it. ~ _came a voice. Harry felt a hand on his shoulder – but it wasn't a hand, it was a wing…

Aureus… 

The golden eagle swooped down to perch on Harry's opposite arm. _Ron – wait –!_

The scars met. 

---

The beam of magic rippled and shivered before turning white – Harry felt its very substance become… not something to fear, not something to fight – it was part of him. Dropping his hand to his side he let the light envelop him. Suddenly he became aware of the presence of not just one bird, but four – Fawkes was at his rear while Hedwig and Mouxaile were flanking him. Before him, shrieking defiance at both Pettigrew and Voldemort, was Ron – Aureus Plumeus. Sliding down from around his wrist and neck, Sleeve and Zedik moved to face the Death Eaters, hissing defiance. 

The Death Eaters turned to find that in the entrance to Great Hall were a thousand more snakes, all hissing and baring their fangs menacingly. 

"Now who's got an army?" Harry found himself yelling, before he himself lifted off the floor and – 

In his place was a black phoenix. 

--

I was going to make this chapter a lot bigger, but I thought that this would be a really great place to leave it (-:  My talent for excessive cliffie-leaving grows! Seriously though, there was going to be more but I'm suffering from a whole lot of writer's block at the moment and I thought it would be more humane to give you a chapter now, however small it may be. 

Is Remus really dead? Not telling! 

Don't forget to review!

~*Laterose*~


	36. The Fight Part Two At Last!

Hi, me again! I know I've been awful, and I was even going to leave this chapter for… oh, maybe another month, but my friend came over and bribed me. See, she has Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I don't. So I don't get to watch any until I write. Meanie. 

---

Previously….

_The beam of magic rippled and shivered before turning white – Harry felt its very substance become… not something to fear, not something to fight – it was part of him. Dropping his hand to his side he let the light envelop him. Suddenly he became aware of the presence of not just one bird, but four – Fawkes was at his rear while Hedwig and Mouxaile were flanking him. Before him, shrieking defiance at both Pettigrew and Voldemort, was Ron – Aureus Plumeus. Sliding down from around his wrist and neck, Sleeve and Zedik moved to face the Death Eaters, hissing defiance. _

_The Death Eaters turned to find that in the entrance to Great Hall were a thousand more snakes, all hissing and baring their fangs menacingly. _

_"Now who's got an army?" Harry found himself yelling, before he himself lifted off the floor and – _

_In his place was a black phoenix._

8888

Behind the diamond formation of the four birds, Albus Dumbledore clutched at the last reserves of energy he possessed. He was no longer young by any means, and Pettigrew had all but drained him when he had thrust his hand into the shield he had erected. But that shield could not be broken, not now, not until both Harry and Ron, or perhaps only one – were dead.

As he watched the formation gently rise higher into the air, the while halo of light surrounding the black phoenix in the centre, the prophecy came back to him. 

_This little babe, so few days old,_

_Has come to rifle Satan's fold…_

Sirius Black lay on the floor beneath them, gazing upwards at the five pairs of softly beating wings, occasionally glancing behind the Death Eaters at the army of snakes blocking the doors to the Great Hall. 

Pettigrew looked scared at last, but the dark figure behind him did not take its hand off his shoulder. "Birds, Potter?" Voldemort hissed. "You think you can defeat me with a couple of birds?" He did not seem surprised at Harry's sudden indiscretion towards his Animuchos ability, nor did he quaver at the army of snakes preventing his Death Eaters from retreating. __

_All hell doth at his presence quake _

_Though he himself for cold do shake_

Harry looked inside his mind. Ron's barrier was down. Smiling inwardly, he ripped down the thin membrane that separated his mind from Lord Voldemort's. 

_There are snakes, too,_ he said. _Do you see them?_

"I see them, boy," Voldemort snapped, pushing back his hood to reveal the white, skeletal features that framed the glowing red eyes. Several students fainted, others screamed. "But they're mine. What twisted reason could you possibly have for thinking that any of my servants besides _those two,_" he sneered slightly at Sleeve and Zedik "would protect _you_?"

_For in this weak unarmed wise,_

_The gates of Hell he will surprise._

_Simple_, Harry replied. _They work for me. _

_"The Little Black One is right," _said Azrith, the largest, who was in the front. "_You have no power over us anymore."_

Voldemort's nostrils flared. "You stole my servants?"

_No_, said Harry, and somehow everyone in the hall could hear his words. _I did not steal them. They came to me of their own free will, because I offered them something you would not give them. Choice. Freedom. _

"You will PAY for this, boy! Kill him!" he yelled at Pettigrew. Wormtail raised his silver hand and yelled the killing curse. 

Harry screeched. The sound was not human, neither was it phoenix song. It was the sound of vengeance, the sound of every man, woman and child that had ever been killed by the dark forces of Voldemort and those before him, screaming together. 

Peter missed. In a blast of feathers, something white fell to the ground. 

Behind the silver shield, Hermione clasped her hands to her mouth. "Oh – Hedwig!"

Harry screamed again, but this time it was mournful – it was phoenix song and it dropped ice into the stomach of all who heard it. Fawkes joined in – it was a melody that rose and fell as though stretched the to the counterpoint of it's ability, and it was a duet. 

Small pearly tears ran down the beaks of both phoenixes, tears for the life that they could not save. 

The sound became piercing to all who were in direct contact with it – thinking quickly, Ron threw a shield around Sarah, the teachers and the remaining students, with a separate one for Sirius, who had crawled over to Remus' body and was shaking it, as though trying to wake him up. 

To the birds the sound was still haunting, yet muffled. The Death Eaters covered their ears – Peter did not dare to protect himself but his face was twisted up in pain.
    
    _His battering shots are babish cries _

_His arrows, looks of weeping eyes_

"Stop them, you idiot!" Voldemort yelled at Pettigrew; just as Harry let out another, louder cry. Peter screamed at put his hands to his ears. "I am surrounded by incompetence! I'll do it myself!" said Voldemort, lifting one spidery hand without a wand – he obviously wasn't taking any chances on the Priori Incantatem charm coming back into effect.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The flash of green light hit the black phoenix in the breast. 

"HARRY!" Hermione screamed. 

The cry continued. The green light exploded into white as another bird came into collision with Harry and the room was suddenly blinded. When the light faded, both the phoenix and the eagle stood side by side.
    
    _With tears He fights and wins the field _
    
    _His naked breast stands for a shield _
    
    Voldemort stood with his fists clenched. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO KILL YOU, BOY?"
    
    The phoenix transformed – slowly due to exhaustion and pain. Harry stood in its place. He felt light-headed and weak but still alive. "Just once more," he said. He took his wand from his pocket. 
    
    _~What are you doing?~_
    
    _I'm getting rid of him. For good. Thank you for helping me, Ron._
    
    _~Let me help you now! ~ _
    
    _No. This is my task. _
    
    _~ No! It's ours now! We ARE each other! That white light isn't yours, and it isn't mine – it's ours. How else do you think we just survived the killing curse? Together we are stronger than any other wizard that has ever existed. We are not silver and we are not blue. We are… light. ~_ The eagle flew to land on Harry's shoulder. _~We do this together. ~_
    
    "What are you waiting for?" Voldemort sneered. "Try to kill me. It won't work, boy. Light wizards cannot play with dark magic without becoming dark. If you kill me, you will only replace me."
    
    "I'm not going to kill you with dark magic, Tom," said Harry, taking slight satisfaction in the way the Dark Lord flinched. "I'm going to kill you with… light."
    
    He raised his wand into the air. "_Cretus Cruor Duo Fraternis! Cretus Cruor Duo Fraternis!"_
    
    Ron spread his wings, still touching Harry but shrieking out his own defiance in the language of the birds. _Cretus Cruor Duo Fraternis!_
    
    A light emitted from Harry's wand, and it was white. Not milky-white, not snow-white, but white light – the brightness of sun and stars and moon all mixed into one and lighting the Great Hall with such force that the stars on the ceiling were no longer visible. 
    
    Harry's wand whipped downwards. He said no words except these: "For the Light!" but the intent was there and the light went speeding towards Voldemort like a sunbeam. 
    
    Tom Riddle screamed. The room reverberated. Suddenly the light branched from out of Voldemort's head and upwards – and there was an enormous booming noise that revived even those who had fainted. 
    
    Wendy looked upwards. Springing suddenly into action, she picked Sarah up in both arms and screamed "GET BEHIND THE SHIELD!"
    
    The teachers and students followed her. The silver shield Harry and Ron had created let them through without resistance, and the students already behind it made room for them. Hermione ran towards Wendy and took the petrified Sarah Pordell from her. Suddenly Snape looked back. "Black," he growled. Sirius was trying to drag Remus' body towards the nearest side of the shield. 
    
    "Leave him, Sirius!" Hermione screamed. "He's dead! Leave him!"
    
    Sirius shook his head and lifted Remus' dead weight onto his shoulders. Suddenly Wendy ran out from the shield and together they bore the lifeless figure to safety and lay him on the ground. 
    
    The ceiling cracked. Sirius and Wendy whipped around in unison. Screams echoed around Great Hall as a large chunk of rock – falling from the exact place where the light had made impact, landed between Harry and Riddle. 
    
    "Harry, Ron, get out of there!" Sirius yelled. 
    
    Ron tugged at Harry's hair. ~_Come _on_! We've got to run! ~_ When he didn't respond Ron squawked at Mouxaile and Fawkes. _FLY!_
    
    They flew straight at the shield and it let them through. 
    
    The last thing anyone saw before the centre of the ceiling collapsed was Harry, standing in the middle of a battlefield, facing over a hundred Death Eaters and the most evil wizard that had ever lived. Then, it all went dark.
    
    _His martial ensigns, Cold and Need _
    
    _And feeble flesh, His warrior's steed _

Well, you can thank Bronwyn for this, so you can go and kill her, not me! Except I am the cliffie queen and she is a BRIBER. Now, who is dead and who isn't? Find out in the next exciting instalment of… Fifth Year? I Haven't Done My Homework!

I'm going on holiday for a week and I will be writing, just don't expect me to update within the next week. If you get bored there's also my TWO new fics – Loving You and the parody on the second film, both of which can be found on my stories authored list.

Edit: Don't forget to visit my new livejournal at www . livejournal . com / users / annundelothiel (without the spaces) 


	37. Some Of Us Live, Some Of Us Die

**Now here's a novelty. For once, I didn't lie! I actually wrote this whole chapter while on holiday. I always say I'll write but never get round to it – this time I did and darn proud of it, especially since any paragraph with Sirius or Wendy in it had to be rewritten about six times – I had her liking him then hating him then liking him again… ugh, nightmare. Also, most of it written while listening to Sweeny Todd, i.e., quite slowly, so there might not be so many mistakes (!). However, this chapter is quite important to the story, so I'm thinking that for the first time I might get a friend to beta it. Well, we'll see. Enjoy!!**

**Disclaimer: Forgot this last time! Apart from Harry Potter and all it's components belonging to J.K.Rowling, the prophecy used in this story belongs solely to Mr. Benjamin Brittan. Not mine!**

Previously…
    
    _The last thing anyone saw before the centre of the ceiling collapsed was Harry, standing in the middle of a battlefield, facing over a hundred Death Eaters and the most evil wizard that had ever lived. Then, it all went dark._

Fifth Year? I Haven't Done My Homework!

Chapter 37

When the dust cleared the doors were blocked from view by a large pile of stone covering every area of floor that wasn't protected by the shield. The enchanted ceiling was completely gone – when they looked up they could see the ceiling of the classroom above. Luckily the walls had held firm, kept in place by the ancient protection charms on the castle. 

Practically all the first and second years were in tears. Ron had transformed back into his original form at some point during the blast and he was standing with his arms firmly around Hermione, who was sobbing hard into his shoulder. Fawkes was on Dumbledore's shoulder and Mouxaile had landed safely on Sarah Pordell's arm. 

Sirius had his arms tight around his twin, who looked up at him in complete shock before pushing him away. "You're… you… you switched?"

"Yes," said Sirius, as though the weight of the world was lifted from his chest in that one world. Wendy smiled and fell once more into his embrace. "Don't ever leave me."

"Never," he told her.

Ron let Hermione go, and turned to face the enormous pile of rubble that had moments before been the floor of the Great Hall. "Harry?" Hermione asked him. Suddenly everyone's attention was on Ron. Slowly he lifted his right sleeve. He saw the two scars, one straight down the length of his forearm, the other crossing his palm from the base of his thumb to his little finger.

_~Harry?~_

There was no answer.

_#Flashback#_

_Ron took a deep breath, held his hand out in front of him and whispered. _

****

_"Cretus Cruor Duo Fraternis." _

_Nothing seemed to happen at first, but when Ron tentatively touched the tip of his wand to his hand, he hissed in pain as a bright red drop of blood appeared. _

_Despite the pain, Ron drew a straight line on his palm with his wand, the skin breaking apart in its wake. Blood poured as he held his hand out over the sink. _

_Harry looked at his own hand. Now or never._

_"Cretus Cruor Duo Fraternis."_

_The straight line of bright red blood streamed as Harry offered his hand to his friend. _

_Ron looked up. Neither of them said a word, but at that point, an age-old power long forgotten through the centuries took over their will. _

_Their eyes locked, they slowly clasped hands. _

---------------

_Ron had no idea how he and Harry had got back to Gryffindor tower. Every muscle in his body ached, and his head was still pounding. He ran his finger over the cut in his palm even as he rolled over for the hundredth time. _

_Already, as the book had warned, it was no longer a cut, but a long thin scar, reaching from the base of his thumb to his little finger. _

----------------

_Ron lifted the sleeve of his school robes. Beneath it, they all saw clearly a thin white line, not a cut, nor quite a scar. It started just above his wrist and extended further than they could see beneath Ron's robes._

_Harry swore. _

_"Language Potter," said Ron, smiling wryly. "It was there when I woke up. I'm rather surprised it didn't hurt, actually."_

_"So am I," said Harry. "Especially if it looks like that."_

_"Let's see yours then," said Ron, and Harry motioned to his bandage. _

_"I'd show you, but I'm forbidden to remove this."_

_"Owch."_

_---------------------_

_Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "Remus had a bit of an accident. I helped out."_

_Ron paled. "You mean… like your Dad used to do?"_

_"Er… I guess so, if you put it that way…"_

_"You idiot! You could have been killed!"_

_Harry flinched. Being scolded by Sirius was one thing, by Ron was another. He'd never admit it, but Ron seemed to have inherited his mother's unbeatable talent for telling people off._

_"Not really. Werewolves aren't a danger to animals, remember? I used a stag form."_

_"They can't turn you into another werewolf – but what's to stop them tearing you to little pieces? Sorry, Professor," he added to Remus, who had suddenly gone even paler than before, if that was at all possible. _

_"Spare me the lecture," said Harry. "I've already had one – or two." _

_"That's not all," said Ron, shaking slightly. "I can't believe you'd be so selfish. If you'd have died, what do you think would have happened to me?"_

_Silence._

_#End Flashback#_

"He's still alive," said Ron. Hermione took a deep breath. 

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked. 

"Yes," said Ron. Suddenly he realised that at least three teachers had their wands out and were pointing them warily at Sirius. "Oh, back off, all of you," he said. "Sirius, stay close to me before someone blows your head off, for goodness sake."

"Can you take the shield down, Ron?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," said Ron again. "Tell them to stand back."

"Stand back, everyone!" Dumbledore told the students and teachers, his voice magically magnified to reach the whole hall. Ron raised his hands before lowering them, and the shield came down. The pile of stone shifted slightly, causing a few students to gasp and press themselves against the wall, but it did not collapse. 

Ron bit his lip. Hermione took his hand with one of hers. He looked her. "Let's find him," she said. He nodded. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he yelled at the nearest stone block. It rose into the air revealing a pair of black boots. He felt Wendy's hand on his shoulder. 

"Ron, use your wand, sweetie. I know you're afraid but you can't afford to lose all your energy –"

Ron met her eyes. "I'm not afraid," he told her firmly. But when he looked back at Hermione, she could see that that was a lie. There was fear in his eyes – terrible fear. 

They started to clear away the rock covering the figure as Dumbledore called instructions to the students on the other side of the hall to pile the stones up gently and call if they found either Harry or Voldemort. Sirius remained close to Ron as ordered. 

The man they'd found still had his face covered with a mask, and was horribly mangled. Hermione gagged and looked away. Snape came forward, looking even grimmer than usual and lifted the mask slightly. 

"Duncan," he said shortly. "That's going to look bad on his ministry file." Ron looked at him, shocked. Had Snape just made a joke? The Potions Master shot him a glare and he decided not to comment. There were other things to worry about. 

They found three more mangled Death Eaters before anything significant happened. Sirius and Ron moved rocks with such force that everyone except Hermione stayed well clear of them, but everyone lent a hand to clear the stone into smaller piles at the edge of the room. Fawkes could carry stones of all sizes one at a time, while even Mouxaile picked up pebbles in her tiny claws. Hagrid was the biggest help of all – he could carry two slabs half his size at the same time. He'd obviously felt completely useless while trapped behind the shield, and wanted to make up for it. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy as he mercilessly attacked the stone pile. 

Ron pushed a large slab off the top of the nearest pile and came face to face with Ernie McMillan. 

"Ron!"

"Hey," said Ron. "How close are we?" 

"Clear away this lot and we'll have a whole corner."

"Oh, great."

"Malfoy's fainted."

Ron gaped. "What?" 

"Couple of minutes ago. He just collapsed. The Slytherins are looking after him. Rather them than me."

"What was that, McMillan?"

Ernie's face paled at the sight of Professor Snape, but he repeated his story for both his benefit and that of Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall who'd joined them. Snape smiled as he turned to Dumbledore.

"The Imperious curse," he said. "I _knew he was acting oddly."_

"What, more oddly than usual?" Ron spat. 

"Shut up, Weasley, and don't talk about things you don't understand. Lucius Malfoy must have died, Albus. The sudden removal of a long-term Imperious curse can do that do you." Professor Snape sounded like he was talking from experience, but Ron didn't care. Who cared about Malfoy when Harry was buried under a hundred tons of stone?

"What, you think Malfoy put an Imperious curse on his son? Come on – why would he need to do that?"

Hermione put a soothing hand on his arm. "It would explain the way he attacked us on the train, Ron."

"It doesn't explain _anything! Malfoy _always _attacks us on the train, it's practically a tradition!"_

"Yes, but I mean how he just pulled his wand out without insulting us first. Remember? You thought it was weird too!"

Suddenly Ron felt like he was in a very small space. He was finding it slightly difficult to breath. 

"Ron? Are you ok?"

"Yeah," he said quickly. "Yes, I'm fine – keep digging."

"See to Draco, Severus," said Albus, levitating two rocks at once. 

"Are _you_ all right, Professor?" asked Wendy as Ernie, looking terrified, led Snape to the spot where several Slytherins were bending over Malfoy. "I saw how much power that shield took out of you."

"Never better," said the old Headmaster. "Let us concentrate on finding Harry."

They found Lucius Malfoy next – his long bloodstained white-blonde hair visible even behind the mask with his hood thrown back and all his limbs bent at awkward angles. Sirius bent to touch his arm, his face a blank. "Still warm," he said. "Snape was right – he was under that lot for a while before he actually died."

"Weren't friendly with him then, were you?" spat Professor Sprout. No one bothered to put her right.

Ron couldn't resist giving the body a little kick before they continued. He tried to take a deep breath but it was difficult, his breath was becoming more and more strained. What was going on?

"Ron?"

"M'fine…" 

"RON! Professor, he's collapsed!"

Dumbledore was immediately at Ron's side. 

"Can't… breath… Harry's… trapped…"

"Keep digging!" Dumbledore told the others. 

"But –" Hermione protested.  

"We have to get Harry out!"

Hermione clutched at Ron's hand. "Try to breath, Ron!"

It was getting harder and harder. It was like being underwater, no matter how hard he drew at the air no oxygen was running through his lungs. His chest felt tight and he was starting to panic. 

"Professor! I think I've found something!"

Sarah's voice seemed to come from far away...

"Stand back – it's him!"

"Which 'him'? Who've they found?"

"Everyone stay BACK! It's You-Know-Who and Pettigrew, they've just got to dig a little further…"

"Let us help, it'll work faster –"

"Hold on, Ron…"

"Oh my God, he's ugly!"

"Leave the bodies! Get Harry out!"

"This one's still alive!"

"Stupify! There, that'll hold him. Move him over there and don't tell Black - I'm sure the ministry will want to talk to him later."

"RON!"

Ron could see little red stars spinning in a black sky. One by one they winked out until they were all gone – and everything went black. 

Ron's hand went limp in Hermione's. She screamed. "Keep going!" Wendy yelled to the workers, running over to them. She checked Ron's pulse. "He's still there, Hermione."

Hermione's tears soaked Ron's sleeve as Fawkes fluttered over to them. Hermione stared at him through blurry eyes. "Can you help him?" she gasped. Fawkes' head lowered over Ron's throat, and he started to cry, the pearly tears soaking into the skin instead of rolling down either side. His chest started to rise and fall again, ever so slightly. 

"Hold on, Ron…" she whispered. 

"PROFESSOR!"

"Yes, that's him – all right, everyone back, we're going to get him out." 

Wendy ran back to the scene – one of Harry's hands had been uncovered. It shone faintly when she looked closely. She smiled. The internal shields she had instructed Harry to create had come into play, protecting him from too much damage. As it was, the hand was bruised but not mangled like the other bodies they'd found. 

Breathing hard, she pulled the nearest rock aside. Quickly Harry's whole arm was revealed, and eventually they'd uncovered his entire body. Gently, Professor Dumbledore turned him over, and nearly dropped him when he saw his emerald green eyes wide open. Harry took a deep, dusty, shuddering breath, and metres away, in Hermione's arms, so did Ron.

"Knew you'd find me," Harry said, and fainted.

Hermione left Ron lying on the floor with Ginny watching over him, and ran to Professor Dumbledore. "Is he going to be ok?" she asked.

"He's quite battered," said Madam Pomfrey, who had rushed over from checking Malfoy over, "and he was without air for quite a long time. I imagine that he'll suffer from severe magical exhaustion as well. He needs food, rest and several potions. Let's go upstairs."

Suddenly Hermione heard a sob from behind her. Sarah had just pulled away one last stone to reveal the deformed body of a white owl. Mouxaile was flapping her wings agitatedly on Sarah's shoulder.

"Sarah…"

The little girl took off her cloak and wrapped Hedwig's remains in it. Mouxaile hooted softly. Hermione gestured for Sarah to give her the cloak, but Sarah shook her head. 

"I owe it to him," she said quietly. 

Hermione nodded. She understood.

"Let me help you, Albus," said McGonagall. 

The Headmaster shook his head. "He's so light," he whispered. "Too light."

McGonagall sighed and helped Hermione and Ginny to levitate Ron off the ground. The two girls stationed themselves on either side of him to make sure he didn't bump into anything. 

Wendy and Sirius walked over to Remus, then looked at each other. "I don't have a wand," Sirius admitted.

Wendy handed him her own, obviously to distraught to levitate her dead lover by herself. Flitwick and the other teachers promised the Headmaster that the other students would remain in the hall and the Ministry would be alerted as soon as possible. The Death Eaters that were, by some miracle, still alive, were stunned and levitated to the hospital wing even as they left the Great Hall. 

The Entrance Hall was full of snakes, which made it a little hard to make their way to the marble staircase, but the snakes moved aside to make a path for them. Dumbledore stopped abruptly when one snake slightly smaller than all the others slithered up his leg, across Harry's torso and fastened itself around the boy's wrist, but then quickly resumed his pace when that was all that the little reptile did. 

Eventually they made it to the hospital wing, where Harry, Ron, Remus and Sarah, despite all her protests, were laid onto beds at one end and the live Death Eaters at the other end. Madam Pomfrey took charge of Hedwig, placing both the owl's remains and the cloak in one of the boxes she used when students came to her with their dead pets. 

Snape came in after a while carrying Malfoy in his arms in much the same way as Dumbledore had carried Harry.

After that they all stood in silence, unspoken questions hanging in the air as Madam Pomfrey set about diagnosing the Death Eater's injuries and making reports for the Ministry. Most of the teachers had joined them now. Some were staring at Harry – the others were glaring at Sirius, who had one arm around the red-eyed Wendy.

Finally, Hermione, sitting with her hand firmly encased around Ron's, snapped. "Stop staring at him, can't you!" she yelled at her teachers. "He's innocent."

"What?" Sirius was startled out of a trance. He hadn't even noticed the intense stares from around the room. "Oh, that. Pettigrew's back there somewhere," he gestured vaguely to the Death Eaters at the other end. "We'll sort it out when the Ministry get here, I suppose."

Hermione stared at him. "You _knew about Pettigrew?"_

"I'm not deaf, Hermione." Professor Vector gasped at Sirius' use of Hermione's first name. 

"And you _don't_ want to rip him to pieces?"

Even Wendy shifted slightly away from Sirius at this. 

"Gosh, thanks Hermione."

"Hell, Sirius – _I_ want to rip him to pieces!"

"Hermione?" The bed's occupant had opened his eyes unnoticed.

"Ron!"

Madam Pomfrey was immediately at the bed. "How are you feeling, Mr. Weasley?"

"Being able to breath is nice," said Ron, rubbing his throat as though afraid it might stop working again. "How's Harry?"

"Still out of it," said Hermione. 

"Well, you can get up in a moment," said Pomfrey, looking as though it hurt her to say it. "I can't see anything wrong with you except the after-effects of suffocation."

"I don't understand," said Vector. "How did you suffocate?"

Ron looked around. Of those present, only Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Madam Pomfrey, Hagrid and of course, Wendy, knew about the blood bond between himself and Harry, and about Sirius' innocence – and Wendy, Sirius' own sister, didn't even know the details about that. Everyone else was either nonplussed, unconscious, or – Ron glanced over at Remus and felt moisture fill his eyes. 

"Well..."

The door burst open. Standing there was the Minister of Magic and at least ten Aurors. 

------

**Ha! Third cliffie in a row! Go me! **

**Well, fortunately for you, I'm still stuck on the Australian coast with no internet and no way of posting this chapter, so I'm going to have to continue writing the next chapter while I'm here. Then you'll get two chapters close together, or just very close. S'logical. **

**Love **

**~*Laterose*~**


	38. Hospital Confrontations Again

**Still on holiday. Still bored with nothing to do. Still writing! Arg, where was I, anyway? Oh yeah, hospital, Aurors, right. Okay, let's go!**

**Disclaimer: HP and all belong to J.K, blah blah. Prophecy belongs to Benjamin Brittan. Nice man. (: **

_Previously:_

_"I don't understand," said Vector. "How did you suffocate?"_

_Ron looked around. Of those present, only Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Madam Pomfrey, Hagrid and of course, Wendy, knew about the blood bond between himself and Harry, and about Sirius' innocence – and Wendy, Sirius' own sister, didn't even know the details about that. Everyone else was either nonplussed, unconscious, or – Ron glanced over at Remus and felt moisture fill his eyes. _

_"Well..."_

_The door burst open. Standing there was the Minister of Magic and at least ten Aurors. _

Chapter 38

Sirius and Ron swore simultaneously. Hagrid, Dumbledore and Hermione all stood up as the Minister swept into the room with his guards standing behind him, wands out, looking wary. 

"Dumbledore!" he gasped, grasping the other man's shoulders. It didn't seem to faze him that he had to stand on tiptoe to do so. "I came as soon as I heard – the squads are downstairs sorting out the dead ones – ah, you brought the survivors up here, I see. How is Mr. Potter?"

"He's recovering, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, in a normal tone of voice. Ron wondered why he was bothering to delay the inevitable. As it was, one of the Aurors was frantically tapping the Minister on the shoulder, while the others had their wands pointed - steadily or otherwise - at Sirius. 

"What _is_ it, Harrison?" Fudge snapped, before following the direction of the man's wand and coming face to face with the ex-convict. 

"SIRIUS BLACK!" 

"Yep," said Sirius. "What's your problem?" 

"YOU!" 

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Look, you single-minded, self-preservating moron. Right now, it isn't me you should be worrying about. I'm not trying to hurt anybody. What you should be worrying about is the group of Death Eaters who just tried to murder an entire school full of students, the body of a certain Dark Lord somewhere downstairs and the extremely dangerous man with the silver hand in one of the beds back there. Got it?"

Fudge stared at Sirius like a fish, with his mouth wide open and eyes bulging. Eventually he said; "Keep your wands on him, men. Harrison, get some of the squads up here as soon as possible to inspect and imprison the live ones. Erm… any other students injured in the attack, ma'am?" 

"A few scratches and bumps," Madam Pomfrey snapped. "Nothing I can't fix in a jiffy, and the students have sense enough to bear with them until I've finished dealing with the more serious problems."

Even as she spoke she ducked behind the curtain separating Harry's bed from the others, potions in hand. Ron and Hermione looked at each other in horror. Harry was a serious problem?

"There was one other, Minister," said Professor Snape said, oiling up the aisle from where he'd been watching Malfoy from a stiff standing position. "Draco Malfoy fainted during the attack – we feel it was a reaction to the sudden termination of a prolonged Imperious Curse."

Fudge gasped. "Surely not –"

"Yes, Minister. Lucius Malfoy was discovered dead under the remains of the ceiling, along with Simon Duncan and Iain Forsaithe."

"No! Lucius Malfoy? But he…"

"Was a Death Eater, Fudge, get used to it," said Sirius.

"Shut up, Black." Snape growled. "You're making things worse for yourself." 

"Why, Severus. I didn't know you cared."

Fudge went, if possible, even redder than before with shock and anger. "Snape? You were in on this too?" 

Ron snorted. Snape's eyes narrowed considerably. "In on _what_, precisely, Minister?"

"This whole ridiculous idea that Black is innocent!"

"What's ridiculous?" Ron shouted, unable to stop himself. "Peter Pettigrew's in one of those beds – it was him who -!"

Sirius coughed meaningfully. Ron stopped yelling.

"What have you been _doing to these children, Black?" Fudge spat. _

"Ron's telling the truth actually, Minister," said Hermione. "Pettigrew _is_ in one of the –"

"_Enough_," Sirius hissed. "I can speak for myself, thank you." 

"Yes, and look how far that got you last time," said Snape. Ron sighed. This wasn't going anywhere. 

---

Harry was having a very odd dream. Xera the dryad was pointing her bow and arrow at him, saying: "What a silly boy. I don't like this one anymore, Hagrid. Can I kill it?" And Hagrid was there, carrying a dead wolf in his arms. 

"Harry," he said. "What 'ave you done?"

Harry stared at the wolf, and suddenly it wasn't a wolf anymore, it was Remus and he was covered in blood. "No," he tried to say, "It wasn't my fault –" but then the blood was spilling off Remus' body and onto the floor, getting higher and higher. It was up to his waist, and Hedwig was floating in it somewhere to his right. He tried to reach her but his feet were stuck to the ground and he could only fall over. 

Then Sleeve was around his neck as usual, but he was too tight, Harry tried to tell him to stop but his mouth was full of chocolate. The snake squeezed him slowly and he couldn't breath. He was drowning and suffocating at the same time, trying to swim while trying to remove the snake from his throat. Just before his eyes slid below the surface of the water, the snake disappeared with a hissed "Goodbye, Black One." 

"But you never call me that!" Harry tried to say, but he was being spun around and lifted out of the sea of blood. Dumbledore's face swum into his vision. 

"Knew you'd find me," Harry told him, without knowing why. Dumbledore dropped him back into the blood. Harry screamed as he hit the surface and it swallowed him. 

It was very dark, but Harry knew Sirius was there. He kept saying "The key… the key… if only I still had my key…"

And Dumbledore's voice was saying, "The stronghold, Sirius; you must protect the stronghold!"

"But I must get back to Harry!"

"Harry must go home!"

Harry's head spun. "Harry! Go home! Go home!" so many voices were screaming at him, the voices of the dead. "Go home!" 

Suddenly there was light in the dark place. Great, Harry thought. Another trap. Now I know I'm dreaming. "Follow the light!" said Wendy's voice. 

"Wendy?" Harry called. "Sirius is innocent! I have to tell you –!"

"Follow the light, Harry."

"Go home, Harry." That was Sirius…

"Go home." Hermione…

"Go home." Ron…

Harry followed the light.

---

From behind the curtain, Madam Pomfrey screamed. 

Hermione got up and ripped the curtain aside. Harry was sitting up, pale and shaking, but conscious. "HARRY!" said about twenty people simultaneously. Harry clapped his hands to his ears. "Go home…" he whispered.

"Poor boy must be delirious," said Fudge. "I suppose you've done all you can, Madam Pomfrey, but I think it's best if we take the boy to St. Mungo's…"

He took a single step towards Harry's bed, but found his way blocked by his worst nightmare. "You're not taking my godson anywhere," he said. 

"That's it, Black. You used up your last chance. Men, stun him!" 

"NO!" A silver shield rocketed up around Sirius and Harry, vibrating from the sheer effort, glared at the Minister from the bed. "Leave him alone, Fudge!" 

"Ah, Mr. Potter – if you'd like to come with us…"

"I'm not going anywhere, and neither is Sirius. As we've tried to tell you a million times, Sirius did not betray my parents to Voldemort, and he didn't kill all those people. Peter Pettigrew did. And he's…" Harry suddenly realised he didn't know what had happened. To Pettigrew, Voldemort, or anyone. He wasn't even sure where he was, entirely. Looking around, he felt a bit dizzy. He was in the hospital wing. 

"It _is_ actually Pettigrew, sir," said one of the 'squad' who'd come in and pulled back the sheet on the closest Death Eater. 

"WHAT?"

"Harry," said Dumbledore, putting one hand on the boy's shoulder. "Take it down before you hurt yourself."

The shield came down, and Sirius rushed to Harry's side. "You promised you'd never do that to me again," he sobbed as he hugged his godson. Harry was as white as the sheets on the bed on which he lay, but he patted Sirius gently on the head.   

"Double promise this time," he sighed. "Gees Sirius, I'm fifteen. You can't expect me to always keep my promises."

"Black?"

They all turned to see the Minister and his group of Aurors looking slightly sheepish. "Ah – I wonder if you'd consider coming down to the Ministry for questioning…?"

Harry folded his arms threateningly. "Um – perhaps not," the Minister continued. "Ah, Professor Dumbledore?"

"You may have the use of my office, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. "But I must ask that both myself and Remus Lupin be present."

An eerie silence fell over the assembly. "Um… someone told me he died?" said Fudge. 

Suddenly, someone coughed behind them. It was Remus - and he was sitting up. "Owch," he grimaced. "What hit me?" 

"REMUS!" Wendy was instantly by his side. "What… how…?"

All of a sudden, Sirius laughed. "You didn't all really think he was dead, did you?"

"Glad you think it's funny," said Remus. "That really _hurt_."

Everyone who wasn't staring at Remus in shock was glaring at Sirius. 

"What?" he said. "I thought you all knew only silver can kill a werewolf? Even Pettigrew knew that!"

"Yes – but the killing curse…?" Wendy stuttered. 

"No conditions apply," said Remus sarcastically, rubbing his chest as though it ached. "Why, what happened?" 

"Voldemort's dead," said Sirius. 

"WHAT?"

"The ceiling in Great Hall collapsed."

Remus gaped open-mouthed. "And I MISSED all this?"

"You were unconscious! And you're a lot heavier than you look! I was starting to get really worried; it only took you a couple of seconds last time!"

Wendy looked as though she was about to faint. "Last time?"

"Sure," said Remus. "I thought we told you – I got hit with the curse when I was, what? Nineteen? You should have seen the look on the bugger's face when I hopped straight back up again and blasted him out of the window."

He looked positively gleeful. Harry had never seen him looking both so happy and so tired all at once. 

"Oh, thank god," said Wendy, holding Remus close to her. Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other. "Guess we should have known," said Ron, sheepishly.

"Definitely," said Hermione. "Especially after I did that enormous great essay for Professor Sna –" she suddenly realised that the Professor she was referring to was standing not three feet from her, and shut up. Harry said nothing, until;

"Who else got hurt? Is Sarah ok?"

"I'm fine," said a small voice. Harry looked over to where Sarah was lying in the bed next to his, so quiet and still up to now that she'd been forgotten. "You saved my life."

"You saved your own life, Sarah," he told her, suddenly feeling more tired than he'd ever been in his whole life and lying back down again. "Sounds corny, but it's true. You're the one with the elf blood."

"I'm very sorry, Sarah," said Wendy. "I shouldn't have shouted that all over the hall."

"That's ok," the little dark girl said, looking very embarrassed. "I couldn't have got away, otherwise."

"Ah, Dumbledore?" Fudge ventured, looking a little lost. Harry almost felt sorry for him.

"Ahem, of course. Remus, are you feeling well enough to accompany Sirius and myself up to my office?"

"Of course, Headmaster," said Remus. "But what-"

"Tell you later," said Sirius, helping him up. The Minister and several Aurors along with Sirius and Remus, left the room. Wendy went with them, giving Harry a tight hug as she exited. "Be back soon," she said. "Promise."

"You will believe him, won't you?" said Harry. 

"I already do," she assured him, before leaving.

Dumbledore paused on his way out. "Harry?"

"I'm fine."

Dumbledore smiled. "What I mean to say is – well done."

He left. Once again, there was that uncomfortable silence, until most of the teachers, who looked incredibly relieved, if somewhat confused, coughed, excused themselves, and went downstairs to help with the excavation and repair of the ceiling. Wendy stayed. 

"That's it?" Ron snorted. "You defeat You-Know-Who and kill or capture all his Death Eaters – from this country anyway – and all you get is a 'well done'?"

"Well, it _is_ Dumbledore," said Hermione, wisely. "What did you expect, mountains of gold and a box of chocolates?"

"I expect the ministry will want to reward you," said Ron, grinning. "Money, power, money, Order of Merlin, money…"

"You can have it," said Harry, pulling a face. "Or Sarah. I'm not accepting anything from Fudge."

It was becoming quite crowded with all the people performing on the spot identification spells on the prone bodies at the other end of the room. Madam Pomfrey moved between them, administering basic healing. 

"Why's she doing that?" Ron spat.

"It's the law, Ron," sighed Hermione. "They're prisoners of war."

"Wasn't much of a war," said Ron. "A hundred of them against a school full of kids and some old professors."

"Plus Harry, you, Fawkes, Hedwig, Mouxaile, and all the snakes," said Hermione, smiling. Harry had gone white. 

"What?" 

Harry pulled down his sleeve to where Zedik was curled around his wrist, apparently asleep. A burst of memory hit him like an anvil.

"Harry? What is it?" 

"Hedwig and Sleeve," Harry breathed. 

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. "I'm really sorry about Hedwig," said Ron. There was a pause. 

"Sleeve, too?" Hermione ventured. 

"Crushed," Harry remembered, trying desperately not to bring up the vision of the stone slabs falling all around his friend, but failing miserably. 

"Oh…" said Hermione. "Harry – I'm really –"

"Stop apologizing," Harry snapped. "The others?"

"All fine, as far as I could tell," said Ron, looking a little shocked. "They must've backed into the Entrance Hall when the ceiling…" 

Harry lowered his head into his hands. "It was an accident," he told himself, aloud. "The whole room wasn't supposed to cave in!" 

"I know, Harry," said Hermione. "But you couldn't have known what that light thing would do!"

"Then I shouldn't have done it at all!" Harry protested. "That's one of the first things Wendy ever taught me."

888

Hey look – not a cliffie!! Decided to end this chapter here for personal reasons that would take to long to explain. Also, I realised that I neglected to announce that I've turned 15!!!! So that is now two birthdays I have had while writing this fic. Excitement. Anyway, school has started which might mean less updates, and might not. Don't forget to review – and this is not a cliffie so don't shout at me, k? (: 

~*Laterose*~


	39. Endgame

**Hi! Sorry it's been like a whole month… but here it is, the final episode in the great sarcastic saga. Endgame.**

**Dedicated to Liddlebee- my biggest fan, Kitani Petitedra- my sooperdooper artist, and of course all my faithful reviewers that have been with this story since the beginning. **

**--**

**_Previously:_**

_Harry pulled down his sleeve to where Zedik was curled around his wrist, apparently asleep. A burst of memory hit him like an anvil. _

_"Harry? What is it?" _

_"Hedwig and Sleeve," Harry breathed. _

_Ron and Hermione looked at each other. "I'm really sorry about Hedwig," said Ron. There was a pause. _

_"Sleeve, too?" Hermione ventured. _

_"Crushed," Harry remembered, trying desperately not to bring up the vision of the stone slabs falling all around his friend, but failing miserably. _

_"Oh…" said Hermione. "Harry – I'm really –"_

_"Stop apologizing," Harry snapped. "The others?"_

_"All fine, as far as I could tell," said Ron, looking a little shocked. "They must've backed into the Entrance Hall when the ceiling…" _

_Harry lowered his head into his hands. "It was an accident," he told himself, aloud. "The whole room wasn't supposed to cave in!" _

_"I know, Harry," said Hermione. "But you couldn't have known what that light thing would do!"_

_"Then I shouldn't have done it at all!" Harry protested. "That's one of the first things Wendy ever taught me."_

--

" Can we have a minute without you feeling sorry for yourself Potter?" came Snape's lazy drawl from behind them. Ron had to crane his neck to see past the Professor's nose.

"How's Malfoy, Professor?" Hermione asked. 

"Huh? What happened to him?" said Harry, looking eager. 

"He will recover," sneered Snape. 

"Unfortunately," said Ron.

"How long do you think that curse was on him, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"I hardly think that is any of your business, Miss Granger."

"Hello? Still in the dark here," said Harry. 

"Lucius Malfoy had little Malfoy under the Imperious," Ron explained. "It came off when you killed him."

"I killed…?" Harry exclaimed. "Someone really has to fill me in on this stuff. Little Malfoy or Big Malfoy?"

"Big Malfoy. Squished like a bug."

Hermione folded her arms just then, and they both thought it might be a bad idea to continue. "I was just wondering," Hermione continued in Professor Snape's direction. "Whether Malfoy had really been on our side all along – he could have been under that curse since he was born, couldn't he? And all that stuff he did to us over all our years at school could've been made up."

"I highly doubt it, Miss Granger," said Snape, turning his back on them. "My guess is that the curse was only applied last summer, when Draco refused to take the mark. Quite a lot of the younger generation are thinking twice about pledging themselves to Voldemort."

"Though that point is kind of moot," said Ron. "Seeing as he's dead now."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Weird, isn't it? I can't believe it was so easy."

"No doubt you will enjoy your new hero status," said Snape, moving back to his constant vigil over the unconscious Malfoy and the mangled Death Eaters. 

"Git," said Ron, though he sounded a little half-hearted. "You gonna be ok, Harry?"

"I guess," said Harry, though he felt slightly sick to the stomach at the thought of Sleeve and Hedwig. When Madam Pomfrey let him leave, he would give them a proper burial. 

--

It took Remus three tries to free Sirius from the effects of Veritaserum. Every time he tried to pour the antidote down his throat, Sirius choked and pushed him away. "Was this really necessary?" Remus growled, but no one was listening. Fudge was staring in horror into space, and the interrogator was hurriedly writing a report. 

Sirius coughed the third time, but managed to swallow the greenish concoction. "_Yuck_," he exclaimed when it had run completely through his bloodstream. "I _bet_ Snape made that."

"No, looks pretty legal," said Remus, looking at the label which read, 'Aesop's Apothecary.'

Sirius licked his dry lips and grimaced. "Disgusting." In two seconds he was embraced by a small person with long black hair. "Whoa, Ali."

"Sorry," said Wendy, stepping back from him. "But... Sirius…"

"Forget it," said Sirius, standing up and stretching. "Ow. That's uncomfortable. Tell me that's the last time I have to take that stuff."

"Well…" the interrogator stuttered. "We may have to call up a formal trial…" the man met Professor Dumbledore's eyes. "Or… perhaps not. No. Ah – we'll have a pardon arranged immediately. In the meantime… well. Come along, Minister."

Fudge followed the interrogator and the Aurors like a dumb child. 

"What's the betting he resigns in three days?" Wendy wondered. 

"Fudge won't resign. He likes his job too much," said Remus. 

"I'll take that bet," said Sirius. "If he doesn't resign, the people will rise up at the oppressive injustice served to yours truly and throw him out of office."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

There was silence for a moment. Finally Sirius suggested; "Harry?"

"Harry," Remus agreed. "And I want to know what happened!"

"In due time, my dear Moony," said Sirius, winking at Dumbledore as the three of them left the office. 

Dumbledore watched them go. After a moment he went to his desk drawer, removed the blood-stained journal from the secret compartment, and looked at it briefly. Then he threw it in the still crackling fire. Harry would be going back to a real home this year. 

--

Harry and Sarah had been force-fed dreamless sleep potion. Hermione and Ron sat watching them, not feeling like talking or doing much else. "I feel awful," Hermione said suddenly. Ron didn't answer but he wasn't feeling too great either. He had a weird empty feeling that he couldn't quite place. 

"I should be happy," Hermione continued. "Voldemort is dead, Harry isn't, Sirius is going to be cleared… so why don't I feel happy?"

"Still half a term left to go before we get to tell anyone about it?" Ron suggested. It had all happened so quickly. Normally this stuff happened at the end of the year instead of the beginning. 

"Oh dear!" Hermione exclaimed. "OWLs! I'd forgotten!"

"They're not till May, Hermione." 

"I know but – I forgot about them! Normally they're all I think about!"

Ron raised his eyebrows. 

"Ok… so not ALL I think about… we have a test tomorrow! I'd forgotten that as well! We have a Transfiguration test tomorrow and I haven't revised!"

"Feel better now?" Ron asked, stretching his arms. 

Hermione stopped talking. "Yes," she said eventually. "Weirdly, I do. How'd you know?"

"Instinct," Ron yawned. "What time is it?"

Hermione glanced at her watch. "Half two," she said. "I'll have to revise at break time tomorrow."

Ron sighed. "I was thinking more, should we go to bed?"

Hermione moved her chair closer to him. "I have a better idea," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair. 

--

When Sirius, Remus and Wendy came in, they were half sprawled over one of the few empty beds. "Now, now, children," Wendy tutted. "Let's play nice."

The two sprung apart as though someone had attacked them with a gigantic chainsaw. "Harry's asleep," Ron said stupidly. 

"I can see that," said Sirius, grinning. "Did we wake you?"

"Oh, hardly," said Hermione, tossing her hair over her shoulder, her face rapidly reddening. "But I'd keep your voices down if I were you – Snape still hasn't left."

"Why?" Sirius asked, craning his head around the curtained beds. 

"Looking after Malfoy," Ron groaned. "Like he deserves it."

"Severus is Mr. Malfoy's head of house," Remus said, professionally. "It's his job-"

"Do you see Professor McGonagall here, _Professor_?" Sirius snorted. 

"Yep," said Remus as the woman entered the room. 

"Ah," said Sirius. "Er…"

"Good news, I hear, Mr. Black?" McGonagall said lightly. 

"Um… yeah…" 

She shook her head. "Still as crude as ever."

"Well, I do my best," he said, pretending to be embarrassed. 

"It'll take time," she continued. "To get everyone back on your side again."

Sirius sighed and sat down on the vacated chair next to Harry's head. "I know that."

There was silence while Sirius stared into Harry's face. He pushed a lock of black hair out of his eyes. "He looks so young," he said. "But he's not. He's had so much… I just wish I could've given him the childhood he deserved."

"Me too," said Remus.

"No," said Sirius. "You don't understand."

Silence once more. Sirius clenched the hand he had used to stroke Harry's hair into a fist. "I never got to cry for them," he said. "I never got to say goodbye."

Wendy put a hand on his shoulder. "You can cry now."

"No. Now I look after Harry. No matter what." He took a deep shuddering breath… and then suddenly he was smiling again. 

--

Harry woke to the sounds of two people arguing. "That's not fair!"

"Oh yes it is."

"No it's not!!"

"I think you'll find it's perfectly legitimate according to the rules."

"But the square just moved for you!"

"So?" 

"I think I prefer the Muggle version of this game…" 

He opened his eyes a crack. Ron and Hermione were sitting on the floor of the hospital wing playing wizard scrabble. Unlike wizard chess, it did not seem to be something Ron was at all proficient at. 

"Come on Hermione… the squares can't just jump around and make it easier!"

"They weren't!" 

"Were too."

Harry smiled. Who's the wizard in this conversation? He asked Ron. To his surprise, Ron did not seem to hear him and continued to argue. 

"But I had a whole plan worked out and now it's ruined!"

"The board realised your plan and moved around."

Ron gaped. "But -!" 

"It'd do the same for me if I had any sort of plan."

"I dunno," said Ron. "I think the board is on your side…"

Harry couldn't help it. He laughed. They both jumped, sending the scrabble board flying and the pieces scattered all over the floor. "HARRY!"

"Sorry," he gasped. "But… so… funny…"

"I'm glad you found our little disagreement amusing," said Hermione, folding her arms. "But _you _are supposed to be asleep."

Harry sat up and rubbed his head. "I feel fine," he told her. "Anyway, if I'm meant to be sleeping, what are you two doing here?"

"We've been coming up here after classes in case you woke up," said Ron, tentatively. "You sure you're ok?"

"You've been… coming up after classes…" Harry repeated. "How long have I been out?"

"Nearly a week."

"WHAT?" Harry looked around. Apart from him the place was empty. 

"I'll get Madam Pomfrey," said Ron, standing up. 

"Ron, I said I feel fine…"

"Do you want to get out of here alive?"

Harry just rolled his eyes at him and he walked off towards Pomfrey's office. 

_A week…_

"That was some potion," he remarked, unable to think of anything else to say that wouldn't invoke a long, complicated conversation. 

Hermione smiled. "It wasn't just the potion," she said. "You were suffering from severe exhaustion – physical and magical. That was a huge spell you did the other day."

_The other day…_

"It still seems like only five minutes ago."

"You'll get used to it. You missed the Transfiguration test." 

Harry gasped. "Oh no!"

"Wow, I didn't think you'd be that disappointed..."

"I missed Sirius… was he cleared?"

"Fully and with compensation," said Hermione with a satisfied grin as she bent over to pick up the scrabble pieces.

"I can't believe I missed that!"

She laughed. "You're annoyed – Remus wouldn't be pacified until we'd given him every single detail about what happened in the Great Hall after he was out."

Harry managed a small smile. 

"Did it scare you?" Hermione asked. 

"What?" 

"When we thought Remus had died."

Harry thought about it. He wasn't sure. He couldn't remember whether he'd just been more worried about killing Voldemort and Wormtail. 

Ron came out with Madam Pomfrey. "Ah, Mr. Potter," she said. "You're up earlier than we expected."

Harry smiled. "That's me," he said. "Always with the unexpected."

"Well, from hereon in I'm hoping you'll become more predictable," said Pomfrey, checking his temperature with one hand. 

"Who's predictable?" a dark-haired woman stuck her head through the door. "Harry! Hey Remus, Harry's up!"

"I don't think 'up' is really the right word," said Harry as Madam Pomfrey magicked off his hospital shirt. 

"Well, well, look who's finally joined the land of the living," said Remus, coming in after Wendy.

"Not too many of those Death Eaters, I hope," yawned Harry as Madam Pomfrey pointed her wand at various parts of his body. 

"A couple died," said Wendy, a little sadly. "Pettigrew, most unfortunately, survived and is currently insane in a top-security holding cell in Azkaban."

"Without bars on doors or windows," Remus added at the worried look on Harry's face. "He wouldn't be able to transform anyway, he's guilty as hell and he knows it, he's a walking Dementor feast."

"Where's Sirius?" Harry asked. 

"In the house he bought so recklessly the day before yesterday, fixing it up for you," said Wendy. There was silence for a second. "What?" she asked, looking back at Remus. "_What_?"

"A house?" Harry asked, sitting up on his knees and ignoring Pomfrey's attempts to further check him over. "Really?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise," said Remus, lifting his eyebrows at Wendy. "But yes – really."

For a moment, Harry's eyes were lit with a happiness Hermione couldn't ever even remember seeing. Then he frowned. "I dreamed about him," he said. "He was crying."

"Well, he's been doing quite the opposite of crying these last few days," said Remus, smiling. 

"There's more," said Wendy, looking slightly embarrassed for once. "Me and Remus… well, the house is quite big… do you mind terribly if we come and live with you as well?"

"Not in the least," said Harry, grinning again. "I'd love that, Wendy."

"Harry," said Wendy, winking. "Do us a favour, will you? Call me Alula."

--

"Ali?" Harry asked the next day when they were having dinner in the hospital wing. "What's a key?"

"Well, generally it's a long thin piece of metal with gaps in it in a unique order that opens a door somewhere," said Alula with her mouth full. "Why?"

"Ha, ha. I mean a different sort of key. When I was dreaming about Sirius in Divination last month, he said something to Dumbledore about wishing he still had his key."

"Ah," said Alula, looking sceptical. "Well, I think he must have meant an Auror's key. It's a talisman of some kind that every Auror carries – it grants them access to all the strongholds. The strongholds are several places… either homes or protected areas of land where wizarding people can flee to in times of crisis."

"Oh," said Harry.

"Why?" Alula asked again. 

"Oh, nothing. Just an old mystery answered in a most uninteresting way. Except that Sirius used to be an Auror."

Alula scoffed. "Oh, just for a couple of months. He barely got through training and I'm sure he'd have given it up within the year. Most Hogwarts students who leave with top marks in everything do the same thing."

--

Harry walked down the empty corridors, trying to ignore the buzz of chatter from behind classroom doors. It had taken three days for Pomfrey to finally clear him of all illness, even though he had continued to assure her that he was completely healthy. He'd gone straight up to Gryffindor tower for his bag, and after asking the first ghost he passed what day it was, he'd checked his timetable and realised he had Potions. 

Deciding that it would not be a good idea to just go straight into his Potions class, he'd hid in the library until the bell rang. Unfortunately he'd been so involved in his Herbology homework (Hermione and Ron had been dropping it off in bits ever since he'd woken up) to notice it and was now ten minutes late for Transfiguration. 

And there was the classroom. Grasping his bag strap tightly with one hand, he took a deep breath before knocking on the door. 

"Come in!" came the stern, annoyed voice of Professor McGonagall. 

As one, the class looked up when Harry came in. For a second there was silence, until the whole room burst into applause. "Well, Mr. Potter," said McGonagall, smiling. "It's about time. Do sit down."

"Thanks," said Harry. He sat down beside Ron. "You saved a seat for me?"

Ron grinned. "Knew you'd be out today."

Ha! I knew you were psychic! Harry told him silently. There was a pause. 

"Are you ok?" Ron asked.

"What? Fine," said Harry, narrowing his eyes slightly. 

The clapping died away, Dean and Neville leaning forward from the row behind to slap Harry gently on the back. "Well, now that we have a full class," McGonagall said, lifting her wand. "Let's continue the lesson."

Harry wasn't really concentrating. He kept trying to talk to Ron, but Ron was not answering. What have I done? he kept asking, but Ron continued to ignore him. 

Ron looked up when a piece of paper touched his hand. Harry was passing him a note. What's this? he asked, but Harry just continued to copy the notes McGonagall was witching onto the blackboard. 

He opened the note. It read: _Can you hear me?_

--

"I can't believe it," Ron said later in the common room. "It's just… gone?"

"Seems like it," said Harry. He was sitting cross-legged in one of the armchairs by the fire – three first years had vacated them for the trio as soon as they came in. "It's not even just closed. It's not there anymore."

"How?" Hermione asked. 

Silence. Harry was getting used to these uncomfortable silences – no one wanted to talk about the minutes he'd been trapped under several tons of rock. "Both of us nearly died," he said. "The bond must have stretched its hardest using your air to keep me alive. It must have… shattered somehow."

"Shattered?" Hermione asked quietly. 

"I knew I felt different," said Ron. "I feel just like I did before we made the bond… except now I can feel that there's something missing." 

"So… no more talking to each other with your minds?" Hermione asked. They shook their heads. "Well, good," she said, causing them both to look up at her in shock. "Well, I think the way you were talking to each other all the time was very rude. I mean, you could have been talking about anything." She rolled her eyes when they only continued to stare at her. "Think about it," she said. "I'm going to bed."

The fire seemed to crackle very loudly after she left. Harry sighed and went inside his own mind. Without Ron, it was hard. He had to concentrate on not thinking about anything else. There were no barriers. Not one. Voldemort was dead, he and Ron had exhausted their connection through keeping each other alive, Remus had been hit with the killing curse and disconnected the bond that existed between Harry, Sirius and himself. The Animagus gate would only open when he was talking to another Animagus. The only mind there was his own. In a way it was comforting, in another, it was lonely. 

"So," said Ron. "What do we do?"

"I don't know," said Harry, startled out of his trance in a way that was slightly painful. He rubbed his forehead. 

"Has this ruined everything?" Ron demanded. "I mean – are we both still Animagi? 

Harry looked up at him. "I hadn't thought of that." He'd gathered that the powers he'd had during the last few months had been given to him by some divine presence to help him defeat Voldemort. What if all his powers had been erased?

"Only one way to find out." They were the only two people left in the common room. Harry closed his eyes. 

--

Two birds winged their way through the night sky. _This is still incredible,_ Aureus Plumeus said through the Animagus link. 

_I know_, said the Phoenix, black as night.

_Would you rather freeze to death…?_

--

~Fin~

--

**It is the end. My baby is grown up. Heck, it's left university, got married, had kids, and is now retired and living on a sunny beach in the Caribbean. Excuse me while I hide away and cry.**

**Please please please please please leave a review to tell me what you think about the ending. From Age to Age the Same and Loving You should both be updated as soon as I have time to finish up the next chapters, and I have a new book-length story starting called _Evanesco_, so do not give up on me!!**

**For now, goodbye.**

**~*Laterose*~**


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